City on Fire!
by totalphangirl
Summary: 'If he stopped now the grief would catch up with him and divert his thoughts; If he stopped now it would all come reeling towards him like a steamtrain ready to knock him unconscious with a blast of severe emotions.' Set after Anthony brings Johanna home from the asylum. Sweeney must nurse her back to health before it's too late… but can the barber protect his girl from everything?
1. Mr Todd, Mr Todd!

**Okay, so this has yet again merged into another multi-chapter Johanna/Sweeney thing. I won't deny the emotions and reactions were a little rushed (sorry!) and it took quite a while to write… Just try your best to believe the relationships I have written. (It also contains some suggestive, pedophilic moments… thanks a lot Turpin!)**

**Also, I can't tell you how depressing it is to upload a story I worked hard on and see no reviews! Please review, even if you hated it!**

**Thanks guys!**

They had merely taken a couple of steps away from the asylum when Johanna began to lag. Anthony had tight hold of her arm and had liberated her from the straight jacket with his knife, leaving her hands to flap comically in her too-long sleeves. 'Anthony, slow down,' she whispered, his grip almost painful. He shot her an anxious glance but obediently slowed his pace a little. Adrenalin pumped in his veins as he steered her through the near deserted streets of London. Her long yellow hair tumbled down her back and her pale skin seemed to glow radiantly in the moonlight, her neck's white complexion contrasting greatly to the dull of her grey dress. He stopped suddenly, and withdrew his hand from her arm with an abrupt snap. Checking to see that no-one was watching her shed his coat and draped it across both her shoulders, concealing most of her bold blonde hair and milky skin.

'Come, we must hurry,' he hissed. Johanna stopped again, hearing her own pulse lazily thumping around her ears. Her head was filled with something stodgy, something foggy, and to her dull attention she felt her ears clog.

'Johanna…' Anthony's voice felt far away… distant. Without realizing it she'd pinned her eyes to the ground, a weight rearing her heavy head forward. The cobbled pavement seemed to cloud with mist, swallowing her vision entirely. A scream rose in her chest but lodged in her throat like a mouthful of food, finally departing her mouth as a pained croak. A weakness far greater than any stability she possessed clawed at her dress, causing her knees to give way from beneath her. 'Johanna!' His voice was louder but as he spoke it rung painfully in her head, rattling like white noise. Another scream made its way through her body, only stopping abruptly when it found her chest. She broke out into shivers, cold, seldom-aware shivers that made reality waft and zoom before the sensitivity of her nerves. All of a sudden her head snapped backwards and she felt like she was being tossed to the side before she realized it was Anthony sweeping her up into his arms. Her throbbing arm swung with dramatic force before resting limply by her body, her head bounced feebly on his shoulder and her legs dangled against his other arm. A cold chill swarmed the side of her body that was uncovered and she wheezed in chilly, broken breaths. Her pulse dulled and sooner or later she was swallowed up by the ground.

'Mr. Todd, Mr. Todd!' Sweeney Todd did not need any more clarification once he'd heard the sailor's voice. He wheeled around and spotted the bundle in Anthony's arms. Sour realization struck him suddenly, his heart pumped and his insides froze… but he knew he needed to act fast.

'Okay Anthony,' he said, with foreign urgency. 'Bring her here.' He assumed the bundle lying limply in Anthony's arms was indeed Johanna. 'I said bring her here!' The sailor stood, alarmed at the tone of Todd's voice; Yes it was still cold, still steely, but it seemed somewhat softer and almost nervous.

'I don't know what happened…she just… we were walking along and she…' Anthony trod forward, hitching the girl higher up his chest.

'Bring her through here, come on boy, hurry!' Sweeney began panicking, and he could feel himself lose control. Ultimate horror gripped him like an awful pound to the chest. He had not yet taken in the fact that it was his long-lost daughter that lay in the sailor's grip. All his animalistic instincts allowed him to know was that something or someone he loved was in danger at that very moment. Suddenly overcome with a fiery protection he pushed hard on Anthony's arm, steering him towards the bed. 'Oh, just give her here!' he snapped, and hastily retrieved Johanna from the sailor's grasp. With hardly enough time to comprehend the fact that Johanna had her head laid against his chest, he jolted her so she was resting properly in his arms, isolated her limp arm from the rest of her body and pushed into the bedroom. With one quick move he'd dispatched her onto the covers of his own bed and pushed a handful of yellow hair from her face. If he stopped now the grief would catch up with him and divert his thoughts. If he stopped now it would all come reeling towards him like a steam-train, ready to knock him unconscious with a blast of severe emotions. 'Anthony!' he barked, and the boy jolted into action.

'Yes Sir?'

'Run downstairs and get me a bucket of water from Mrs. Lovett! Hurry!'

'Yes Mr. Todd!' within a second Anthony had flung the door back open with a clatter and had darted down the stairs. It was only then that Sweeney stole a moment of reflection to himself. He fell against the side of his dresser, clutching it for support. His eyes bunched together and his teeth gritted as the cocktail of emotions rose in his chest. Lifting a hand to his face and raking his fingers through his hair he channeled most of his jumbled, overpowering thoughts into one word.

'Shit!' It came out as a clenched, off-key growl, diluted by his gritted teeth. With a shaky sigh he steadied himself and made his way cautiously into the next room. His cold eyes observed Johanna lying flat on the bed but, as if saving his tender emotions for later, he tried not to look upon her with adoration. In spite of himself, he leaned across her body and very gently tucked his sheets around her before snatching his hand back. 'Later,' he muttered to himself, the fatherly bond that he had detached from himself suddenly flooding back at the sight of his girl. He suddenly felt overcome with warmth, with love, a love that had seeped past the reclusive shell he had earned over the past fifteen years of his life. He was suddenly gripped by the strange urge to embrace his daughter, and he may have done if not for Anthony clattering back up the stairs. Todd whipped around. 'You have the water?' he confirmed, although it was obvious with the overflowing bucket he was carrying. 'Set it down and come and sit by her.'

'What's wrong with her?' Todd swallowed.

'I don't know… she's probably picked up some disease from the asylum but… Just hold her hand, try to comfort her.' Anthony obediently sped forward, leaning down and clutching Johanna's clammy hand in his. He rolled up the sleeves of her straight jacket as Todd whipped the barbering cloth from his belt and bunched it together in his fist. Once it was coated in water he wrung it out and kneeled beside Johanna, gently dabbing at her burning forehead. Her lips parted a little at the cold touch and she murmured in her sleep.

'She's waking up!' Anthony hissed triumphantly. Sweeney turned his attention to the garment Johanna was wearing. The material seemed to wriggle. He whipped backwards in shock before noticing a small black bug fall from her chest, and it became evident that lice had inhabited her clothes. Grimacing and balling his fist against his head again he released another angry, frustrated

'Shit!'

'Mr. Todd?' Anthony whipped his head up in concern. 'What is it?'

'Lice!'

'What!'

'There's lice in her clothes… that fucker's given her lice covered clothes…' He clenched his eyes in frustration. 'Damn him to hell!' Anthony swallowed and bit his bottom lip as Sweeney continued to mop at her head with a tenderness that was diverse to the sharp tone he had just been using. 'Lice!' he muttered, his black eyes glassy. He backed away a little as another bug crawled down her arm. Wrinkling his nose he picked it from his daughter's hand, regarding it with a half muttered 'Damn son of a bitch!'

'Mr. Todd?' Anthony said, so quiet it was almost inaudible. 'What is it?'

'Nothing,' the barber muttered.

'You seem so upset…'

'I just can't believe someone would do that,' he paused and then regretfully asked: 'Was it bad in there?'

'Awful,' Anthony said gravely, shuddering slightly at the memory. 'The smell was revolting and the people were all lunatics… clawing and biting and rocking in corners… But Mr. Fogg was just terrible.' Sweeney felt his blood freeze. 'I didn't like the way he treated Johanna, he sort of…petted her,' Todd released a small grunt of dismissal. 'No-one should have to go through that, Sir, even if they are half-crazed.' There was another pregnant pause. On the surface Sweeney knew he didn't want to know anymore, but deep down he yearned for the truth. Keeping his eyes locked on Johanna he bit his lip.

'What else happened?' his heart thumped loudly in his chest. Anthony took a sharp intake of breath before exhaling loudly.

'They were all locked away, all stuffed into the same room. When Mister Fogg walked in they began to scream and bounced back a little. He said they were beaten when they were bad and given a sweetie when they were good…' Sweeney took a minute to wonder what surpassed as 'Good' behavior in Mr. Fogg's books. 'It was filthy, she looked scared and she was wearing a straight jacket with her arms tied so she couldn't move… Mr. Todd, are you alright?' Anthony saw Sweeney stop mid-swipe, his dark eyes misting.

'Son of a bitch!' he hissed again, more to himself than to Anthony. 'If he's laid a finger on my Johanna…'

'_My _Johanna?' Anthony turned to face Sweeney. 'What do you mean, _my _Johanna?' he asked, a frown creeping onto his face. Todd continued to dab at his daughter's pale face, almost grinning at the thought of how trivial it was compared to the seriousness of the situation they were dealing with. He clenched her wrist with his forefinger and thumb, waiting for the pulse to bless his hand before turning back and rubbing the cold cloth against her forehead. 'Mr. Todd, what's going on?' Anthony asked, his tone so sharp that it made Sweeney stop abruptly. He'd noticed Anthony clutch tightly to the shoulders of Johanna's dress, observing the barber with a frightened, critical look. What was going on? Had he landed himself and his lover with a pedophile? The thought caused his hand to lift half of Johanna's body from the bed and to his chest.

'Put her back down, son,' Todd said calmly, raising a hand in surrender. 'Just let me get to her head-'

'My god, who the hell _are _you?' Anthony suddenly yelped, his eyes clouded with horror, confusion and fright. Todd resisted another humorless smile that threatened to greet his lips.

'Okay son, I'm just going to come out and say it: I'm Johanna's father.' Anthony did a double take, causing the girl's head to jolt slightly against his shoulder. He was almost speechless with shock.

'You're… you're lying!'

'I'm not.'

'Prove it!'

'Johanna has blue eyes, she is almost sixteen years old and her birthday is the 9th of June,' he said, a smile curving the edge of his lips. Anthony's eyes widened at the prepared chunk of information. He shifted uncomfortably, moving Johanna so her head was against his shoulder.

'Anyone could have made that up!' he protested. 'You're probably a stalker or…'

'Ask me another question.'

'What?'

'Ask me a question that will prove to you that I am who I say I am.' Anthony paused, his teeth gritted in confusion and doubt.

'What happened to Johanna? How did she end up with Judge Turpin?'

'I'm not too sure… Anthony… do you remember the story?'

'The story?' Todd had caught him off-guard.

'Yes. Remember, the barber and his wife?'

'Ah, yes!'

'Well that was me… I had a wife and a baby girl until I was taken away from them by Judge Turpin,' his voice deepened at the sound of his enemy's name 'and sent to Botany Bay in Australia.'

'That's when I found you on the sea…' Anthony concluded wistfully.

'Yes! I managed to escape but I came home to…' He took a shaky intake of breath 'A dead wife, an empty room and a stolen daughter.' His eyes sub-consciously fell on Johanna.

'Good Lord,' Anthony muttered, loosening his grip and slowly lowering Johanna back onto the covers. 'But… why did you never tell me?' Todd chose to ignore the question.

'I need to have a proper look at her,' he mumbled, a hand pressed against her burning cheek. 'It might not be an infection, she might be hurt or…' he leaned closer, observing her feeble breaths and slow heartbeat.

'Shall we undress her?' Anthony asked, before flushing a deep red at the scowl he had elicited from her father. 'To examine her, I mean,' he babbled. Todd rolled his eyes.

'Well I certainly won't allow _you _anywhere near her,' he said bluntly, offending the boy. 'And I can hardly do it, if she wakes up and sees me she'll…' he shook his head. 'We'll ask Mrs. Lovett.'

'Alright.'

'Go and fetch her will you lad?'

'Yes Sir.' with another clumsy clatter Anthony thundered into the pie-shop. Todd watched him leave, regarding him so intently that he almost didn't notice Johanna's eyes flick open. She groaned from deep in her throat.

'…Sir?' she mumbled, her eyes falling on Todd.

'Oh… you're awake!' He observed stupidly, placing a hand to his chest in relief. 'Thank God!'

'Where am I? Who are you?' she asked weakly.

'I'm Mr. Todd, dear.'

'Mr… Oh yes, Anthony's friend.' She rolled to her side, whimpering in pain. 'What happened?'

'You collapsed. Anthony brought you here; I'm a barber, I'm good with injuries.'

'Do you… do you know what's wrong with me, sir?'

'We're going to find out soon, pet.' Johanna frowned a little. There was something tender, something immediately warm and welcoming about the sound of his voice. She felt as if she'd heard that voice before; it was the voice she had associated in her mind with _good _men, as such people were rare to come across. Her lips parted, as if of their own accord, and she strung together a sentence that surprised her when it passed her lips.

'Don't I know you, Mister?' Todd smiled, and something stirred inside Johanna. Her rare memories of happiness were evoked at the sound of his voice, the sight of his face and the… warmth that seemed to radiate from him. It was as if Johanna was totally unaware of the coldness Sweeney Todd's face constantly seemed to bear. 'Warmth' was not how one would describe a gaunt, ghostly man with a mess of black hair and a pained expression. The deep down, repressed memories seemed to influence, seemed to decide Johanna's attitude towards the man. As if on cue, Lovett and Anthony burst through the door.

'Johanna! You're awake!' Anthony exclaimed, pecking her lightly on the cheek. Her face jerked involuntarily at his touch and Sweeney found he'd curled his fingers into tight fists.

'Anthony,' she said breathlessly. She paused. 'Who are you?' she asked, directing her question at Mrs. Lovett.

'Mrs. Lovett, love.' Johanna regarded her with a faint smile, only to be interrupted.

'Johanna, I need to examine you,' Todd said, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes widened in fear. 'But first you need to change into something better than that dress. It has lice in it… Do you want Mrs. Lovett to help you?' She blinked.

'Erm… I suppose so Sir.' Anthony leaned in slightly.

'Mr. Todd, have you not told her?' he hissed.

'Not now, Anthony!' he said sharply. Johanna's head flickered between the two.

'Tell me what?' she asked, her eyes large.

'Nothing,' Todd said firmly. 'Now, would you like to use my bathroom to dress in or-'

'Mr. Todd is your father!' Anthony blurted before he could be scorched by Todd's demon scowl. Johanna gasped.

'What?!'

'It's true, isn't it Mr. Todd? Isn't Johanna your daughter?'

'I…erm…' Sweeney shot glances between Johanna and Anthony. He could hardly lie to her, could he? He sighed. 'Yes… yes Johanna, I am your father.'

The pause.

The pause was unbearable.

'What?' Johanna breathed, her arms shaking. She'd propped herself up onto her elbows and looked as if she was threatening to crash back down onto her pillow. Todd gently scooped a hand behind her back, just between the shoulder-blades, and he supported her there. 'Oh God,' she mumbled, swearing sub-consciously. Her shaking hand crept up her face to her lips and she bit down hard on her fist. '_Oh God!' _ She squealed and fell backwards, only to have her fall broken by the comfort of her father's hand.

'It's Okay,' he shushed her gently, lowering her head back onto the pillows.

'Are you… are you sure? Are you sure it's me?' she croaked. Sweeney laughed, surprising the small audience around him.

'I don't think I'd forget my little girl now, would I?' Johanna's face suddenly broke and she yelped out

_'Father!' _Her head crashed forwards and she fell against Sweeney's chest, burying her face deep in his shirt. Knowing it was alright, Sweeney threw his arms around Johanna, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

'Johanna…' he mumbled, guarding her with his arms. Entirely overcome with emotions, Johanna sobbed into his chest, distraught with confusion yet overjoyed with her father. Her _father. _The word had never been used to describe Judge Turpin. It was a word she knew was reserved for her _real _father, the father she thought was dead. Deep down in her mind the repressed memories of love, of happiness and of fathers opened ever so slightly; the edges were still blurry but the bond… the strong bond that had been locked away in her heart and saved for this very moment came bursting open with so much passion and so much emotion it made her shake. 'I'm here,' he whispered as she howled, the beautiful love he had felt for her just moments ago flowing out into the child. It did not feel like they were strangers; they _knew_ how to hold each other. They _knew_ how to speak to each other and they _knew_ how feel. Johanna clutched the linen of his shirt in her balled fist, her happiness overcoming her, bathing her in pure, white joy.

'Father!' she said again, as if she could not get enough of the word. 'Father! Father! Father!' Sweeney rocked her from side to side, repositioning his hands against her head. He pressed a cheek against her hair, allowing a single tear to drop from his eye. He squeezed them shut defiantly; No Way was he going to crumble right now! 'Father…' It came out as a mumble this time. She thought for a second of what 'Father' had meant to her over the past fifteen years of her life. It had been a useless, empty word used to label any man with a child. Judge Turpin had been addressed 'Sir' and so the word father was rarely spoken in the house. Now it brimmed with emotion, with feeling, with love. Now it felt full and meaningful… Johanna had struck a chord with the man, a deep, untouched chord, and now she was feeling the same way.

'Come now,' Sweeney whispered. 'We must get you feeling better.' He very gently slid away from Johanna, much to his sadness, and wiped the tears from her eyes. She saw the man in a new light, she saw her father. 'Mrs. Lovett, could you take Johanna into the back room and help her with her dress?' Mrs. Lovett nodded. Sweeney turned back to his daughter and smiled. 'I'm going to help you up now,' he explained delicately, rising from the bed. Johanna gave a feeble wobble and a wince of pain, causing the muscles in her arms to clench tightly around her father. 'Are you alright?' he asked, setting her down. She bit her lip and nodded.

'I'm fine,' she muttered. 'Can you help me up again?' Sweeney nodded and slung one of her arms over his shoulder. She winced a little as they walked but seemed alright. Every so often Sweeney would steal a glance at her, still quite unbelieving of the fact that Johanna, his Johanna, was here with him. Slowly setting her down on a chair he stroked her cheek with his finger and walked back to Mrs. Lovett.

'You think you can help her change into something?' he asked. Lovett simply nodded; she and Anthony were rather overwhelmed at the emotional scene they had just witnessed.

'Come 'ere Love,' she said gently, greeting Johanna as she made her way into the room. The door closed behind them, and it was just Todd and Anthony left in the room.

Alone.

A silence suddenly flooded the two males. Sweeney drummed his foot against the bare floorboards and Anthony tapped his fingers against his chair arm.

'So,' Anthony said. 'What do we do now?' There was another large pause.

'What do you mean?' he answered gruffly.

'Who will take care of Johanna?'

'I will.' His tone was sharp, sharper than the razor hidden beneath his coat. Anthony sighed, knowing it was a lost cause… for now. All of a sudden there was a shout from the back room.

'Mr. Todd, could you come 'ere please?' Mrs. Lovett asked, her voice wobbling with a kind of uncertainty. Todd threw Anthony a glance before heaving himself upright and walking towards the door. Mrs. Lovett stood barricading his way.

'Let me past,' he demanded coldly.

'She's not decent,'

'Then why did you call me?'

'Because you need to see this!' Mrs. Lovett seemed to have lost her patience. She swung the door wide open to reveal Johanna curled up on the chair, her knees tucked up to her chest and her back exposed. Sweeney blushed fiercely, a dramatic happening in his pale face, and averted his eyes.

'Oh, Johanna, I'm sorry!' he blurted. Johanna gave a shaky sigh.

'It's alright,' she said. 'This is crazy but I trust you.' She paused, looked up at him. 'Just don't hurt me, okay?' Sweeney felt his blood turn to ice, his heart thump in his chest.

_What the hell would make her think that? … or rather _who _the hell…_

He whipped around and nodded at Mrs. Lovett, her reason for calling him suddenly evident. He gasped noiselessly, forgetting that Johanna wasn't wearing anything, and glanced, horrified at her back. Three messy slash marks zig-zagged dramatically across her pale back, deep cuts that glistened crimson. The edges frothed with dead skin and foamy infection, deep and painful-looking. She squirmed a little, feeling his eyes on her back. 'Who did this?' he asked, his voice dull and threatening.

'Mr. Fogg,' she whispered. Todd eyed her discarded grey dress, and noticed her hug her knees even tighter to her chest. A very gentle hand slipped over her shoulder, carefully dodging the whip-marks.

'Are you… hurt anywhere else?' he asked hoarsely, his mouth dry. The girl nodded, her eyes fixed on her knees.

'Where?' he said softly. 'Do you not mind me looking?' Johanna shook her head and slowly unwound her body from her arms. A terrible sight greeted his eyes.

Johanna's ribs and collarbone protruded from her papery skin, sharp and obvious. Her stomach was shrunken, her hip-bones jutted from her thighs and her legs were wasted and stick-thin. Her chest and stomach bore black and purple bruises, often with crude puncture-marks dotting her unmarred skin. More cuts were positioned randomly up her arm, slanting this way and that, and bite marks were detected from her mess of shattered flesh. After further inspection Todd discovered that the soles of her feet had been badly burnt. The skin was torn and tender, painful to even look at. 'Oh, God,' he muttered, sucking in his breath. He puffed it out again with effort, clenching his fists tightly in anger. 'Who did it?' his voice was eerily quiet. It punctured the silence of the room almost painfully.

'Mr. Fogg,' Johanna said again.

'You poor thing…' He placed another hand on her shoulder, lost for words. Although he wanted nothing more than to feel the satisfaction of killing this Mr. Fogg, he managed to keep his aggression wrapped beneath a mask of composure. 'My poor girl.' Sweeney Todd screamed inside as he looked over her again. He remembered glancing at her chest and wondering how on earth she was beaten there. 'Oh God,' he mumbled again, and his shoulders slouched.

_If that Mr. Fogg's touched my girl…_

'Is Mr. Fogg dead?' he asked, spitting the name out.

'Yes father,' Johanna squeaked. He suddenly came to his senses and knew he had to comfort his girl.

'It's alright,' he whispered, approaching her. 'I'll help you feel better. We'll clean up those nasty cuts.' His voice was soft once more; it seemed he was changing tones more than an orchestra. Steering Johanna's head towards him suddenly, he stared her in the eyes. 'Listen to me,' he said gently. 'As long as I'm here, no-one will ever hurt you.' Johanna smiled a little, uncertain.

'You promise?' she asked childishly.

'I promise.'

Sweeney very gently dabbed at Johanna's body with a wet cloth, cleaning her injuries. The slashes on her back needed to be rid of dead skin with the edge of his razor, before being sealed by fresh bandages. Her feet were also tightly bound with them, and any small cuts were cleaned. He cleaned the grimy skin between her injuries too, deciding to ask about her injuries later on (although he wanted to know.) Once she was clean he very gently helped her with her corset and allowed her to slip on the pale pink dress Mrs. Lovett had selected for her. 'There,' he said gently, smiling at her. 'All done.' They shared a moment of intense love… nothing happened… it was just a look, but love seemed to glow, seemed to radiate in its mellow light. Johanna smiled up at her father. The way he had addressed to her injuries, so tenderly, so lovingly.

'Do you love me father?' she asked. The smile on his face broadened. It felt strange there, foreign.

'Yes.' She needed no further clarification; she knew it was true.

'I love you too father,' she said with a childish giggle. Todd roped his arms around her back and she did likewise, her soft chin pushed up against the material of his shirt. He leaned down and kissed her on the head, breathing in her sweet smell. She smelt of peaches and powder. She smelt as if she'd experimented with lavender and rose scents before. Her hair was beautifully silky and fragrant, the same yellow shade of her mother's. As they stood, locked in their embrace, Sweeney felt himself stiffen… with horror, with fright, with sudden realization.

The plans he had made for that night… bring Johanna here… lure the Judge here… how could he have been so _stupid! _

Johanna gasped suddenly, digging her nails into his shoulders. He felt her shake in his arms, weak, defenseless. Behind them came a metallic, icy voice. It was the voice that penetrated the darkness whenever Johanna would have a nightmare. It would haunt her, it would inject fear into her veins, cold, cold fear. Releasing a small whimper she heard it speak.

'Well, well, well… hello Little Johanna.'

**Excuse the extremely long chapter (sorry, started and couldn't stop!) Remember, can't tell you how much it means to get a review! REVIEW IT PLEASE! (Sorry!)**


	2. Fight

The eerie smirk seemed to glisten on Turpin's face. He stood erect, his back straight, and the smile fell from his face after surveying the scene before him. The smile morphed into a grimace as he watched Todd hold Johanna to his chest. 'Barber!' he spat, his eyes clouding with hate. Perhaps if Sweeney's arms weren't so limp after holding his girl tenderly he would have been able to stand a chance. Perhaps if he hadn't melted, if he hadn't sagged in despair at the sight of Turpin then he would have been ready for a fight. He was frozen in terror, one arm trying in vain to shield Johanna and the other lying limp and useless by his side. Before he knew it the Judge charged forward and slammed up hard against Todd, sending him plummeting to the ground shoulder first. As he hit the floorboards a loud CRACK greeted his ears and he released a yelp of pain, whipping around and clutching the sharp pain in his shoulder as if trying to dull it with his hand.

_'Father!' _ Johanna screamed, the delicate yet urgent patter of her feet audible as she darted towards Todd. The Judge whipped out an arm and seized her around the middle, wrenching her away from Sweeney. As she was shaken roughly her hair splashed over her face like crude yellow paint from the flick of a brush. She shrieked and pounded at him with her fists, only to be slammed backwards into a wall. Her head reacted with a painful snap as it bounced twice against the brute force of his thrust, eliciting a scream from deep in her throat. With a sharp twist Turpin had pinned her to the wall, seizing her wrists in one of his hands. She struggled against him to no effect; she was his, like a mouse in a trap. She was his like her mother was fifteen years before her.

His lower arm slammed up hard against her bruised chest, causing her to shriek in pain. With one hand still pinning her limp arms to the wall, he trapped her body beneath his and began to touch her. Johanna shook in fright as his rough hand crept up her thigh, bunching her skirts up with it. Her chest heaved in and out and her eyes widened in fear as his fingers tugged down harshly on her underskirts. _'NO!'_ she screamed, thrashing against the wall and driving her knees up to his groin.

'I hope your little practices with the sailor haven't left you _too_ tired!' he panted breathlessly, squeezing down hard on her with one hand and exploring her broken body with the other. He dipped one bent knee between hers, slicing both her legs apart and holding her with his body. _'NO!' _she wept, her legs either side of him. Her sobs were cut short.

All of a sudden the Judge was pulled ferociously from her, causing her to topple to the ground. Turpin coughed in throttled chokes, clawing at the arm that had wound itself around his neck so suddenly and sharply. Sweeney gritted his teeth, dragging his opponent backwards and wrenching him to the floor. Turpin landed hard on his back, only to have his throat constrained and squeezed tightly, choking the breath from his body. Todd raised a fist and pounded Turpin's face hard, the Judge's body reacting limply and involuntarily, like a dead fish. He seized a handful of grey hair and pounded Turpin's battered face to the floor. He released a broken yelp as his cheek was slammed up hard against the floorboards. Todd knelt over him, spitting out words with each slam of the head. _'Don't… You… Touch… My… Girl…_ _Again!'_ he roared, watching as blood pooled from Turpin's mouth. He dropped the Judge's heavy head, panting, and rose from the floor.

'Johanna!' he said hoarsely, darting towards the girl. He flung his arms wide and swept her up into them. She clenched a tight hold of his shirt, her face crushed tightly against his shoulder. Blood coursed loudly through her ears, and all she wanted to do was to lose herself, to dissolve into the linen of his shirt.

'I'm sorry!' she wept as Sweeney kissed the crown of her head.

'No, _I'm _sorry… I'm so sorry darling…' His voice trailed away and he kissed her again, long and full on the forehead. With her face buried against his chest, Johanna paused and breathed in his smell; He smelt of sea-air and wood-smoke, of shaving cream and crisp, clean clothes… with just a hint of French Cologne. All of a sudden there was a clattering from behind them and they whipped around.

'What happened?!' Anthony gasped, noticing the Judge's body bleeding unconsciously on the floor. Mrs. Lovett was hot on his heels, followed by a bleary-eyed Toby.

'What time 'zit?' he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes with a balled fist.

'Go back to bed, love,' Mrs. Lovett whispered, raking a hand through his spiky hair. Toby gasped, his eyes falling on Judge Turpin.

'What the—'

'Just go back to bed!' Lovett hissed, grasping his small hand in hers. 'I'll explain there!' the two were briskly led away, their voices growing dimmer with each step they took. Anthony shot a half-glare in Todd's direction.

'What happened Mr. Todd?' he growled.

'Judge Turpin came in, tried to—' he paused and inhaled noisily. 'Tried to touch Johanna.' Johanna lifted her head from her father's chest.

'Is… is he dead?' she whispered, shaking. Peeling herself gently from her father's arms she walked slowly towards the Judge, lying in a mound on the floor. Sweeney took a baby-step nearer.

'Yes, I think so.' Johanna stopped and knelt by him, darting her head upwards to face him.

As if answering the question, an almighty scream rung from the mound on the floor.

Todd and Anthony whipped around, finding to their horror that the Judge had risen from the floor. Johanna was breathing heavily by his side, her head yanked upwards by a fistful of hair. Her chin was cocked to the ceiling and she whimpered, feeling the sharp dig of a razor pushed hard against her throat.

_'Johanna!'_ Todd and Anthony screamed in syncopation. The Judge smiled maliciously, rising from the floor with Johanna still tightly held in his grasp.

'Take one step closer and she dies!' he spat, causing Johanna to release a heartbroken yelp. He wrung the fistful of hair as if trying to prove his point. Shooting a quick look behind him he backed away from the scene, pausing to nudge the door open with his elbow.

'Let her go!' Sweeney growled, livid. Johanna felt her pulse thump lazily in her ears again, felt her vision devour itself. She groaned, buckling her knees and crashing to the floor.

'Johanna!' Anthony yelped, darting towards the unconscious girl. Sweeney was there before him. In Turpin's brief moment of confusion he's shot at them, whipping the corner of his coat back and tearing the razor from its sheath. With a quick flick he'd unfolded it, blade readied, and aimed it at the Judge. He drove his knuckles into the Judges face, tugged the limp Johanna from his arms and half-threw her to Anthony.

'Get her out of here boy!' he demanded. Anthony scooped Johanna to his chest and slammed out of the room, darting down the stairs and into the parlor. Suspending the Judge by his hair, Sweeney brought the razor to his throat and grinned horribly. 'Looks like it's just you and me now!'

**Review! please! :D**


	3. play the father

'Come with me!' he spat, his composure draining away from him. With a yank of the hair he'd lifted the Judge from the ground. Obediently, Turpin made his way to the door.

'Who are you?' he asked. 'If you've tried anything with my ward I swear to God I'll…'

'You won't live long enough to find that out!' Todd barked, causing Turpin to writhe in his grip. 'You don't remember me Sir? Benjamin Barker?' The judge gave a humorless snort of laughter.

'That's impossible, he's…' The smile slipped from his face. He remembered Johanna calling 'father' when he'd attempted to rape her. '…Oh God…'

'Hmm, this should be fun!' Todd smirked, driving the Judge into his shop. To his surprise, Anthony was still standing there, holding Johanna to his chest. 'I said get her out of here boy!' he hissed. 'Lie her down in Mrs. Lovett's parlor.' Anthony's concerned eyes flickered over to Turpin, whose bloodied face was yanked upwards to stare him coldly in the eyes.

'Yes Mr. Todd,' Anthony muttered, carrying the girl downstairs tenderly. Once they were out of sight Todd threw Turpin backwards onto his leather chair with a snap. 'Sit Down!' he yelled, although Turpin had no other choice but to do so.

'What are you going to do to me?' he asked, masking the concern in his voice badly.

'Only time will tell,' Sweeney said, smiling wickedly. He began to circle the chair like a bird circling it's pray, lazily bringing the razor up to his hand and wiping it against his cloth in a leisurely manner. Each time he shot the judge a look he flinched.

_Oh, will this be fun!_

Turpin watched him pace, torturously slowly, and wondered about running for the door. His hands shook by his sides. 'Just do it already man!' he yelped. Todd cackled at his pleading tone.

'That would be far too kind!' he laughed, dry and mocking. 'I am in no place to show you mercy.' He stopped abruptly, his thoughts taking a darker turn. 'Did you show any mercy on my Lucy?' his voice dropped dramatically from being gleeful and mocking to deep and hateful. He was so quiet it made Turpin want to scream from fright. Todd took a striding step nearer and thrust his face up against Turpin's. He seized hold of the Judge's coat lapel, tugged him nearer. 'How about Johanna?' The epiphany had just struck him. He thought of how he'd pinned Johanna to the wall, how his hand had gone up her skirts. At the time he wanted to believe the Judge was molesting her, not attempting to rape her. Turpin noticed the barber's brow lace together, his eyes narrow and dim, his face control. 'Before I kill you, because I inevitably _will,' _Turpin squirmed 'tell me what you've done to my girl.' The tone had stiffened, Sweeney was uncertain about what he wanted to hear. The question had erupted from his mouth before he'd had time to decide on it. His fatherly concerns overtook him again.

Turpin, who saw this, refused to look the barber in the eyes. Perhaps it was time to make _him _wait. The lip curved into an evil smile, his eyes shone and he frowned. Todd tightened his grip on the coat lapel, shaking the Judge thoroughly. 'What did you do to my girl!?' he yelped, all restraint and patience gone. He wanted to know everything so he may kill the man to the utmost satisfaction… and also so that he didn't have to ask Johanna.

'You saw what I did,' Turpin smirked, loving how he made the barber squirm. He took a deep breath, knowing that if he was about to die, if this man should kill him, he wanted to make him suffer too. 'I stuck my hands up her skirts and tried to fuck her… didn't you see me?'

Sweeney's heart began racing, his eyes misted and his hands grew limp. All he wanted to do was to make the Judge suffer. He wanted to drive the razor deep into his throat, to hear the cries and pleas and screams. The information he had just witnessed made him shake with rage but something in him was far stronger than any hate he could possess. He felt as if someone had dragged him to the floor, had pushed him into the dirt. The way the Judge had said it, so mercilessly, so shamelessly…

'Well, it wouldn't be the first time!'

Morals lost, muscles tensed, gripped by hate, love, passion. Within a millisecond Sweeney had thrust his arm into the air, clenched the razor in his shaking hand and driven it, stabbed it, spat it into Judge Turpin's neck. His actions took effect immediately. After the first rip was made blood gushed from the wound, spraying from his neck like a crimson fountain. Releasing spits and gasps of effort he turned and twisted it before withdrawing and stabbing repeatedly. Blood shot up his arm, drenching the side of his body that was turned towards the Judge. His razor was painted in ruby beads that glistened invitingly, shaking and quivering before the next gushing installment.

All too soon it was over and Sweeney stood, breathing heavily and feeling drained. Droplets of blood beaded on his brow, dashing against his narrowed eyelids and landing on his cheek. With a clamp of the pedal he sent the corpse sliding down the chute, catching glimpse of his bloodied achievement momentarily… his interest was massively dulled, his mood had hit rock bottom. All he could think of was Johanna, and the confession the Judge had made seconds before his death. With a clatter the razor fell to the floor, landing dangerously close to Sweeney's foot. The barber swayed a little on the spot, clutching the corner of his chair for support. He leaned against the rooted support of his arm, arched his back and put a hand to his mouth. Closing his eyes he drank it in, wiped a hand over his face. Had Turpin been telling the truth? His hand tightened around his mouth, as if scared he might vomit. His body jerked a little, and a retch came from between his shoulders. Without really noticing it, Sweeney had fallen to the floor, knees first. His hand came splashing down into the pools of warm blood, coating his already soaked fingers. Shuddering, the man felt a bitter weep rise in his throat. It departed his mouth as an inaudible yelp, partnered only with a single tear that cut its way stodgily and stubbornly through his dried mask of blood.

His soul resembled a sinking ship, swallowing, drowning, dying.

Any trust, any hope he had for the mercy of humanity was well and truly gone; In Sweeney Todd's life the one thing, the one and only beautiful, pure, unmarred thing remaining was the smiling baby in the gilt photo frame.

It was the soft, white angel-girl who'd roped her arms around his neck and said with honesty and virtue that she loved him.

And that thing was gone.

That thing was no longer pure.

And he had humanity to blame.

Inhaling heavily he drove himself to his feet and retrieved the razor from the floor. The smashed mirror opposite him depicted the truth. It showed the blood-soaked man with a single tear stuck halfway down his cheek in a bitter attempt at sorrow.

It showed a monster, a murderer clutching his prized weapon, an eerie, menacing smile plastered on his bloodless lips.

It showed a father, suffering a foreign, agonized tenderness for the only thing he loved more in the world than the cold piece of metal digging a grove in his hand.

It showed a confused young man, wondering which part he wanted to play.

Did he want to play the father or the killer?

His brow furrowed in confusion.

He scooped up his barbering jacket, raced down the stairs and played the father.

**Again, it got a little sexual in this chapter... sorry if it made you uncomfortable!**

**Also, if you are considering following this story then be warned, there may be some more themes of rape and violence coming up...**

**Review if you liked it!... or hated it!**


	4. My rock, my baby girl

'What happened?' Todd questioned in a low growl. Anthony jumped backwards, startled at the sight of his blood-soaked friend.

'What happened to _you?' _He asked, his young eyes flickered with concern. There was a slight twitch below his bottom lip as he looked Todd up and down; focusing mainly on the spotless barbering jacket he had just thrown on. Sweeney's cold face regarded the boy, his eyes hard and icy.

'I've rid London of a rapist,' he muttered. It was only then that Anthony noticed the pain in his eyes and the half-shed tear that had somehow stopped halfway down his cheek. His eyes widened and he began to sway unsteadily.

'Oh God,' he mumbled, his voice moist with emotions. With a sharp turn of the head he noticed Sweeney lean down to an unconscious Johanna. His eyes fell on her. 'You mean Turpin has—'

'That's exactly what I mean!' Todd's face was morphed into a scowl, an agonized, icy scowl. He treated Johanna with that odd diverse tenderness he seemed to switch to whenever he was in the presence of his daughter. Dabbing lightly at her pale forehead and repositioning her head on the pillows. Anthony, who was still overwhelmed with confusion, watched him in awe.

'Oh God,' he said again, a hand to his head. Sweeney wasn't quite sure what he was marveling at this time.

'Johanna may need to see a doctor,' he said calmly, getting to his feet. His voice was smooth and easy, like a blade through water. 'She's ill.' Once again, the sailor stared in awe at the man.

'But… she's been _raped!_ My god, don't you _care!?' _ He regretted the words the minute they had spewed from his mouth. Todd's eyes clouded with anger, his lip curled into a snarl and he took an advancing step forwards. 'I… I'm sorry!' Anthony babbled as Todd continued to walk towards him with a dangerously angered stride. Once face to face with the boy he clutched his coat lapel and dragged him upwards.

'Don't ever say I don't care about my girl. Do you understand?' maintaining the coolness of his voice, Sweeney Todd was the definition of intimidating; His face shone crimson, his eyes were dim, his hand clutched Anthony, and a flicker of insanity dawdled momentarily along his mask of forced composure.

'Yes Sir!' Anthony squeaked, his eyes wide and his brain tired of trying to analyze the man's feelings.

'Good. I'm going to change into some clean clothes. Sit next to Johanna until I get back.' Dry. Flat. Emotionless. Within the presence of the boy Sweeney showed no signs of uncertainty. It was only when he arrived in his shop that he allowed his compressed emotions to flood him, to evade him. He tore off his blood-soaked shirt and threw it to the floor indignantly, the ghosts of old whip-marks visible on his back. He thought of Johanna's injuries and shook in frustration.

Stumbling into the bathroom he scrubbed blood from his hands and face until they were mere pink stains. Throwing a clean shirt over his narrow chest he yanked it down to waist-level, fitting it to his body with his waistcoat. As blood did not show on his black trousers he decided to leave it, instead throwing his grey jacket over his arms and darting down the stairs.

'Alright, I'm off,' he sniffed. Allowing himself a quick look at Johanna he leaned down on one knee and kissed her on the pale forehead, stroking her cheek with his finger. Once he had kissed her he withdrew his head oddly, pushing backwards and eyeing the floor. He inhaled noisily and rose, still staring at the carpet.

* * *

'Johanna?' Todd whispered. His thumb was stroking her forehead, gently caressing her burning face. Suddenly her eyes snapped open.

'Wh…' she frowned at the sight of Sweeney, and Anthony beside him. 'Where am…' with ice-cold abruptness her memory flooded back to her. She sat up straight, only to yelp in pain and collapse back onto the pillows again.

'It's alright,' he reassured her. 'The doctor's here.' There was a warmness to his voice that steadied Johanna's thumping heart. She flickered her eyelids, frowning in pain and confusion.

'Father…' she mouthed, gripping Todd's hand tightly. He wrapped his fingers around hers and pulled her arm nearer.

'I'm here,' he repeated, the mask of composure threatening to slip from his face. His black eyes shone with sadness and fear shot through him like ice-water; no, he couldn't lose his girl, not now. Anthony nudged up beside him, taking Johanna's hand in his.

'It's alright,' he parroted. Again, Johanna frowned for she had rather forgotten Anthony was there. 'Can… can you sit up?' he asked, his throat dry. Johanna blinked before obediently heaving her frail body onto the support of her shaking elbows. Pain streaked through the slashes in her back as they stretched, tearing at her pale skin. She shrieked, her arms collapsed from beneath her and she landed on the bed again, sobbing.

'No!' Todd growled. He nudged Anthony away. 'She is not well enough to move yet!' Turning back to Johanna he stroked her cheek, muttering soothingly. She panted in pained squeaks, sweats of effort beading on her brow.

'Well,' the doctor's voice erupted from behind them. 'Take a sip of this dear, and we'll examine you.' He held out a tumbler of clear liquid and handed it to Todd who brought in to Johanna's lips. She paused, clutched Todd's hand tighter. He very gently laid it down and scooped his hands beneath her armpits, lifting her into a sitting position.

'It's alright,' he said into her hair.

'Is he… is he going to…' tears dribbled down Johanna's cheeks. She pressed her arms against her father's back, quivering. Sweeney drew her in nearer.

'Have a drink love,' he said. 'You'll feel better.' She pulled away from him anxiously, eyeing the glass in his hand. Taking a deep breath she took it from his fingers and swallowed it back. The liquid slipped down her neck, burning her throat. She coughed and spluttered, a hand to her gullet. Her father drew her nearer and she buried her face in his shoulder, allowing fresh tears to sting her eyes. 'There now,' he whispered. All of a sudden Johanna felt hands on her back – not her father's hands—unlacing the back of her corset.

_'NO!' _She screamed, causing Sweeney to jump backwards in horror.

'It's alright… I was just going to check your back…' the confused doctor mumbled, his arms up in surrender. Johanna sobbed, memories swirling through her mind like cold air through a door.

'Please… father…' she crushed her face into his shirt.

'Johanna, what is it?' he asked, frozen in fear.

Johanna had lost control. Her shoulders jerked with shaky sobs, her eyes were clenched together and her fingers bore deep into Sweeney's shoulders. Memories continued to shoot through her head… they were blurry, like faded photographs… each time she tried to pin-point her pain different thoughts would collide with each other into a confusing jumble.

_'Drink this,' Turpin said. The drug scorched her throat, made her choke…_

'FATHER!' she screamed, shaking vigorously. In the confusion of her own mind she could make out Todd's form against her hands.

_The Judge threw the girl onto the bed, raked at her clothes, toyed with her dress…_

Sweeney pulled the fragile girl onto his lap, scooping her up into his arms.

_His belt pushed into her bare stomach… she could smell the leather, feel him undo the clasp…_

Johanna screamed, tears streaming down her crimson cheeks. She twisted her head inwards, leaning against her terrified father.

_The Judge clenched her hair in his fist, dragging her back beneath him each time she tried to slip away._

Her mouth opened in a silent scream, her eyes clenched shut, watery with tears. Her vision blurred and she was back.

_His nails dug crescent-shaped scars up her thigh. His hands were rough on her legs, his breath hot and musty on her neck._

'Johanna!' Todd snapped his head upwards to face the doctor. 'What… what's wrong with her?'

_He was heavy on top of her… she did not know what he was doing, jerking up against the inside of her thigh… it hurt._

Sweeney laid his girl back down on the bed, tucking the covers around her. He didn't want to leave her… but she wasn't waking up. 'Oh God Johanna!' he said silently, bringing a hand to his face.

_The vision was hazy… More thrusts… then Johanna lay on the floor with blood seeping through the folds of her skirts. _

'Father…' she mumbled. Her eyes opened ever so slightly. Todd shot upwards from his chair, darted over to her bedside. Her eyes clouded with fear, insanity flickering through her like electric currents. She opened her mouth and screamed, shaking her head, shaking all over. Her words were inaudible, but Sweeney knew she needed holding. He very gently lifted her from the bed, anchored her head on his shoulder and held her body to his chest.

'It's alright,' he said again, sitting on the bed. Johanna clutched tightly to his coat lapel, drawing him nearer. The screams had subsided to a feeble whimper but her fear still remained, devouring her.

'F-father…' she stammered, her teeth chattering. She remembered; it was merely a couple of hours since they had met… why did she trust him so much? Johanna buckled over in his arms, yelping in pain. She tugged down hard on his coat and Sweeney tried his best to comfort her, blanketing her with his arms, guarding her, holding her.

'I'm here Johanna, and I love you, dear Lord I love you…' the words seemed random, hastily thought up, but to Sweeney it was all he could say. To watch his girl suffer was the hardest torture he had ever had to endure. All the love he had kept tucked away flowed out to the child—whether he wanted it to or not—and he felt Benjamin Barker stir in his soul. When he had heard about his Lucy he did not allow himself to mourn. As he slit the throats of men he grasped his sliver of sanity by thinking of his daughter… and his emotions only stretched so far. '… I love you…' he said again, breathlessly. Johanna arched her back and screamed, unsure of whether she was suffering physical pain or mental pain. Both probably; her memories welded with reality, the pain in her back and on her arms flew to her mind, infecting it, invading it. In her mind Judge Turpin threw her to the bed, trapped her small body beneath his, violated her. In reality she had no idea what was happening; lights swam, and a man zoomed in and out of focus. She clung to the man like a rock on a stormy sea… he was her rock, one that could haul her from the depths of her own mind.

Deep down, before the hot breath on her neck.

Deep down before the rough hand on her thigh.

Deep down in her mind, there was another man.

A man who held her in the crook of his arm…

A man who rocked her gently, who kissed her lovingly, who flooded her mind with warmth.

This man was her rock. The only memory that contained her real father had been repressed, deep, deep down… now she was reaching for it, grasping out like a rock on a stormy sea…

She arched her back, screamed again. Sweeney could not stop his tears. The steam train of emotions had caught up with him, knocked him flat on his back. Todd staggered and he collapsed onto the bed, his limp little girl held close to his chest.

She's dying…

She's dying…

He gritted his teeth, bitter tears swarmed his cheeks, dropping heavily into Johanna's nest of hair. His memories overtook him.

His daughter lay against him, asleep in his arms. She was two months old and Benjamin already adored her with an insane love. As he looked down at her intense emotions swelled inside him. He would die for his girl, he would die for his daughter…

Lucy and Johanna stood together, both smiling. Suddenly the infant broke out into darling little chortles… contagious. Her parents laughed with her. Benjamin thought his heart would burst…

Johanna had found her rock. She was leaning against him. Whether she was an infant or a teen, she would always find comfort, find protection in her father's arms.

No matter if she was an infant or a teen, Sweeney would never let go of his girl, he would hold her forever if that's what it took…

The two stayed locked in an embrace, framed by the doorway. Johanna grew silent, releasing only the smallest groan of pain occasionally. Sweeney was buried in her hair, his tears scored her cheeks lightly. It was torture, it was the utmost torture…

It was paradise. It was paradise to hold her, to hold his baby girl again. How his arms had ached for her!

_She's dying… _

No.

Not whilst he was there.

Not whilst he was holding her.

She finally relaxed against him, released a shaky sigh and tucked her head against the safety of his shoulder.

She had never loved a man with such passion… yet so innocently.

She was safe in his embrace.

He was safe whilst he could hold her.

**Aww! :3 Well, I did kind of enjoy writing this chapter but PLEASE OH PLEASE OH PLEASE REVIEWWWWW! I live off your reviews… please, review, even if you hated it! XD **

**Again, quite a long chapter, but for all two of you out there who like the whole Sweeney/Johanna relationship as well as me, I hope this satisfied your needs… I know I quite liked it but hey, that's just me.**

**I feel like I'm doing all this work for nothing D'X . How about reviewing and making my day LOL! **


	5. Talking

**Just a heads up: it gets sexual in this chapter ): poor Johanna!**

The next couple of days bled together like ink on wet paper. Unreadable.

Some days Johanna would be able to sit up and talk to Sweeney, other days she would writhe on her pillows, screaming in pain. Every time her father would hold her to his chest, allowing her to weep onto his shoulder. Every time he would comfort her, kiss her, whisper soothing words to her. Each time the pain would subside and Johanna would fall, limp into his arms.

Anthony would often sit beside her and hold her hand, leaving at six O'clock sharp every evening (Sweeney had not allowed him to spend the night beside Johanna.) 'We'll leave here one day,' he whispered, when Sweeney was out of the room (which was hardly ever.) The minute Johanna had heard it her eyes had widened in fear.

'B- but not yet, we don't have to leave yet, do we?' the smile was tugged from Anthony's face.

'Of course not my love… we don't have to leave _ever… _not if you don't want to,'

'What are you saying to her?' Sweeney snapped, approaching behind them.

'Nothing sir, nothing.'

When Anthony left that night, Johanna had time to think about what he had said to her. Each time her thoughts subsided they would switch to a new one, a new worry, a new memory.

_Do you love him?_

The voice invaded her mind like a demon. She didn't know… was she _ever _in love with him? Or was she just in love with the idea of freedom? She rolled onto her side and Sweeney stood next to the bed, her hand enveloped in his.

'Are you ready to go to sleep now pet?' She nodded and closed her eyes. 'Alright.' Todd kissed her on the forehead and drew his chair nearer, making sure her hand was grasped tightly in his. 'Goodnight Johanna, I love you.'

'Goodnight father, I love you too.' Johanna buried her face in the pillow and closed her eyes. Todd sat beside her the whole time, watching her fall into a peaceful sleep and then slowly, slowly begin thrashing and screaming.

An inevitability of their nights spent together was Johanna's nightmares.

Whilst she fell deep into the pit of restless sleep her mind would repeat on itself, relive horrors, conjure up fantasies that fused with memories and pin herself to a tangle of agonizing thoughts.

_She would feel hands on her body, unfamiliar hands of a distant, drug-induced memory. _

Johanna's mouth opened, her brow crinkled and sweat formed on her forehead. Sweeney knew it was happening again.

_She was tackled to the floor, her back greeted it with a hard crack. A man pinned her wrists above her head—not Judge Turpin—he would rip at her clothes, attack her, violate her, and leave her to bleed on the floor._

A yelp erupted from her throat. Sweeney put hands to her back, lifted her half-limp body from the bed.

_Yes… it wasn't just the Judge who'd had his way with her… there were many other men, many other faces, many other bodies crushed up against hers. Whether it was on the floor or on the bed. Whether it ended with a kiss or a punch. Johanna knew something was wrong, but her feeble body reacted groggily, uselessly… the men took her, night after night, week after week, month after month. Judge Turpin would lock the door, smirk as he heard his ward scream, laugh as he heard the bed clunk rhythmically against the wall…_

Her mouth open in a croaky, sub-conscious scream, she saw her father look down at her face. Her head was on his lap, her hand still grasping his. She breathed out a sigh of sick, dizzy relief and leaned against him. He stayed firm as a block of concrete. 'It's alright,' he whispered, tucking a piece of sweaty yellow hair behind her ear.

'I'm sorry father,' she said, tears suddenly springing from her eyes. 'I didn't mean to wake you… you should sleep, you should—'

'I never sleep,' he replied coolly, shooting her his attempt at a smile; a quick, jerky movement that flashed across his lips and departed his face immediately. 'And I understand… you know… the nightmares…'

'Thank you.'

'Think nothing of it,' he mumbled, lifting up her knees and pulling the covers back over her frail body. The doctor had diagnosed her with a minor chest infection… nothing serious… but said that she may have suffered some mental illness at the asylum. And the beatings had weakened her body.

Once she was lying back down Sweeney dragged a hand over his pale face. He wanted to know more about Johanna's past.

Did he?

If what the Judge said was true, did he really want to know about the torture his girl had suffered?

He shuddered at the thought, a weight pounding in his chest, bile rising in his throat.

_That bastard's already ruined my poor wife… but my _daughter?

Pushing the thought aside, he stared long and full into Johanna's face. The more he looked at it, the more youthful it seemed to become. Her face was pale and childishly round with apple-shaped baby-cheeks. Her mouth blended perfectly with the creaminess of her complexion, the subtle sweep of her nose. When Sweeney looked into her gorgeous blue eyes he could see his baby, the baby he had held fifteen years before. Her face had stayed intact during childhood. It was still beautiful, innocent, pure…

_How any monster could have the heart to fuck her I will never know._

He scowled.

_When he did it… when he pinned her to the wall or to the bed or wherever, he must have looked into her eyes; he must have looked at her baby-face when… when…_

He gave an inward shiver, a scowl, a constellation of emotions knotting at the back of his mind like thread. Squeezing his girl's hand tightly he edged nearer, shifting the chair. When he had time just to _think, _his mind usually took the path of rape or sexual violence. To Sweeney, they were the worst crimes any man could ever commit, and when it's a child, when it's a defenseless young girl, it was disgusting.

_Was he telling the truth?_

He tugged at Johanna's hand.

_He could have been lying, just to anger you, just to provoke you._

Sweeney took a deep breath. He would find this out. He would question Johanna. It might do her some good to talk about it.

* * *

Johanna sat by the window, watching as rain poured down the panes. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass, holding her knees to her chest. When she was younger she used to sing a song when it rained. Her lips mouthed the words of their own accord.

_'Rain, rain, go away, come back another day…'_

Reprising the tune in her head she swayed against the steadiness of the glass, her breath misting it up. Footsteps sounded behind her and she lifted her face from the window rather abruptly. Todd took a seat next to her. There was something wrong, he seemed… anxious.

'Johanna,' he started, bowing his head. Johanna eyed the white streak in his messy tangle of hair. 'I think it's time…' he took a deep breath. 'I think it's time you told me about your past, about what you… _suffered _when you lived with the Judge.' He felt his muscles tense; he shook with anger and terror. No. He didn't want to know.

'What?'

'Is there anything you want to tell me? Anything at all?' Johanna glanced at him, puzzled.

_Where had this come from?_

'Anything about your nightmares—' Johanna jerked upright, snapping her whole body away from the window. Her father noticed. 'Your nightmares,' he repeated. Swallowed, his throat dry, painful, parched. 'Tell me about your nightmares would you? Would you darling?' Johanna's eyes shone with fear. She shook her head.

'You wouldn't want to know,' she whispered, her own mouth suddenly dry. 'No, no, you wouldn't want to.'

'But it might help you… if you talk to me…' he took a deep breath. 'I hear you scream every night, Johanna, and it's awful. It's awful just imagining what might of happened, awful just…_ assuming._ Whatever that man did to you, you can tell me; I'm your father Johanna, your _father.' _

The girl turned back to him. Could she trust him? Would he understand? Her lips pressed together in an anxious line, her brow furrowed and her blue eyes shone with tears.

'I… I don't know what they did to me…' Sweeney's blood froze.

_They?_

'They took off my skirts… took off their pants… kept pushing up against this part of me,' she gestured to her legs. 'It hurt. There was a new man every night, and they'd touch me and then…' her words were drying up, ceasing, dying. '… they'd put something hard in and…'

_'ENOUGH!' _Johanna jumped backwards in fright. Sweeney had jumped to his feet, bellowed, slammed his fist down on the table. He heaved his breaths in and out, pure anger, disgust, sorrow swilling inside him like a sickly cocktail. The thoughts, the images whirled in his head, hurricanes, and the man crashed to the floor. He clutched the side of his dresser, jolting it massively. With his back turned from Johanna he fell to his knees, bitter tears streaming down his face. There was a growl from deep in his throat, not an angry one, a frustrated one, a frightened one. He crushed his hand into a fist and pounded the tears from his eyes, shaking in rage. _'MY GOD GIRL!' _ Johanna shakily got to her feet. _'WOULD NO-ONE HAVE MERCY ON YOU?!' _

'Father I… I'm sorry! I assure you it only happened when I was naughty…'

_'EVERY NIGHT?!' _His voice swamped hers. He leapt to his feet and seized Johanna by the shoulders, shaking her. _'EVERY BLOODY NIGHT?! EVERY F-FUCKING NIGHT!?' _The tears were shameless. They ran rivers down his face. His mouth crumbled in despair, his face resembled a child's.

'Father… Father, you're scaring me!' Johanna squeaked.

_'DON'T! DON'T… I DON'T WANT TO KNOW ANYMORE!' _He dug his nails deep into her bare shoulders, jerking with tears. As if leaning against her for support, he brought his arm around, swung it through the loop of her elbow and embraced her. Her little body was pushed hard against his. She flung her arms around his back, pulling on him as if she couldn't get close enough.

'I'm sorry…'

'I'm sorry…'

'I… I…' Johanna broke down into tears, leaning heavily against him. The top of her body was still immobilized in the tight grip of his arms but her legs fell from beneath her. Half-holding the girl, Sweeney felt his own legs shake. He fell against the wall, his back smashing flat up against it. Johanna could feel his stomach shake with sobs… He had never acted like this. He had always been so controlled, so composed.

His legs fell from beneath him and he slid down the wall, his knees folding and Johanna still clasped in his arms. He ran his fingers through her hair, kissing her tears and her face. 'I'm sorry I scared you I just…' Johanna was weak with relief. She fell against her father, heart pounding. She was terrified. Now the subject had been brought up she remembered so much, it made her weak in the knees.

She was relieved.

She was terrified.

She was devastated.

_There was one man Johanna feared above all: John Brandon. _

She shook just thinking about him.

_John Brandon was Turpin's most regular customer. He was brutal with Johanna, he tore her open with his grubby fingers, entered her roughly and pounded up against her like a merciless animal. He'd elbow her to the wall, put a hand to her throat and then explore her body with his sharp nails and busy fingers. Whilst it would happen he'd release almost animalistic yelps. He'd tear at her face, punch her, rip her hair and skin till she screamed and pleaded at him to stop. _

_Each day John Brandon would wait outside Johanna's window, smiling at her maliciously. 'Has my little lark been good or bad today?' he'd ask Turpin. If he answered Good, Johanna would be spared. If he answered Bad, the door would open and shut behind them, he would leer at the girl and tackle her to the ground, trap her, pound her, rape her. _

_Ever since Johanna was fourteen he'd taken a disturbing interest in her. There was a certain way he felt her, the noises he made, the movements of his hands which made Johanna sick to the stomach._

'Father…' Johanna clenched his shoulders tightly.

'You're safe now.' His voice was a warm buzz, his hair tickled her cheek. 'Nothings gonna harm you, not while I'm around…' Johanna wanted to believe him, she did, but she had a feeling, an awful feeling… 'Nothing's gonna harm you darling, not while I'm around…' She twisted her head around, faced her father. Her eyes brimmed with tears as he cupped a hand around her head. She thought of John Brandon.

'Demons are prowling everywhere, nowadays!' she persisted. Crushing her warm little head up against her father, he held his precious girl to his chest, kissing her head.

'And I'll send 'em howling,' he reassured her, closing his eyes and nuzzling deep into her reams of silken hair. 'I've… got ways…' the razor felt heavy in his pocket. All of a sudden he felt like screaming as the full horror hit him. How could he just lie there when his daughter… his only child… had just told him such a thing.

_No._

_Hold her Sweeney, just hold her._

'Nothing's gonna harm you… not while I'm around…'

Johanna put John Brandon aside in her head. Her father would protect her, he would always protect her. She shot him a weak, watery smile.

**I'm considering turning this to M… but hey, I'm a teenager so maybe not. **

**Unfortunately, more themes of rape coming up. **

**Also, five chapters and 1 review…**


	6. Healing

**Swearing and sex references in this chapter. **

Gradually, Johanna began to heal. Her scars faded, as did her bruises and the nightmares seemed to simmer down.

Her soul was a different thing.

Her heart was well and truly broken, her soul, tarnished, her mind, marred. No needle and thread could ever reconnect them.

But Sweeney's love helped.

Sweeney's love gently bound the tenderness of her broken life together, like sewing a doll. His warm words lulled her to sleep, his body holding hers soothed her, and his very existence made her complete.

Little did she know that _she_ had saved _him._

When Sweeney Todd killed the Judge that fateful night, his faith in humanity crumbled; his daughter had restored it.

Of course the barber was still cold and sharp, but when in the presence of Johanna he was swamped with floods of happiness. His eyes would shine and the smile would return to his face. His ever-changing emotional status was tiring for the people around him; Mrs. Lovett would witness him curse in a hateful growl before beaming and wrapping his arm around her.

Toby had been a bystander to all of this, yet happily accepted Johanna as a kind of older sister, taking advantage of Mr. Todd's good moods and keeping well clear of him when he was angry.

Every evening as a sort of ritual, Mrs. Lovett, Toby, Johanna, Sweeney and Anthony would pile into the parlor to play happy families. Toby would sit beside Mrs. Lovett, his legs lying across her lap and his head against her shoulder, Johanna would lean on Sweeney with his arm draped around her, and Anthony would find somewhere to sit on the floor feeling rather neglected.

One would marvel at the utterly odd-looking family. Whether it was the gin-soaked boy, the feeble teen, the wiry-haired baker or the gaunt, scowling barber, it was clear that the knot of people were out-of-place in London's streets. They found ways to fit together like mis-matching jigsaw pieces, the family that shattered the barriers of 'normal' society.

Amongst it all, Anthony watched from a distance.

Every evening his beloved would rather curl up next to her father than sit with him.

Every evening she would take Sweeney's hand and kiss his cheek instead of showing a shred of affection towards Anthony. His plans of their life together were well and truly shattered. To the boy it felt as if he had fought a war for nothing. For months on end he had searched wildly through the streets of London for Johanna whilst her father simply sat in his shop. A scowl was elicited from his brow.

_Where were _you _Mr. Todd?_

He tried to push the wicked thought aside.

_Where were _you _when your beloved daughter was rotting away in that asylum?_

The sailor clenched his fists. He had of course asked Sweeney permission to marry Johanna but the question had been turned aside with a simple No and the subject had been forgotten. Anthony began visiting less and less, although his thoughts on eloping with Johanna only increased.

His heart would pound with adrenalin at the thought of stealing the barber's daughter away from the cruel city of London. Johanna had not yet left the house and Anthony could see the longing, the desire for adventure in her eyes as she gazed out of her window. If only he was given the chance, he could show her all that.

* * *

'Piss off women,' the man muttered, roughly shaking a brazen prostitute from him. Defeated, the woman limped away, regarding the man with cold black eyes. 'Fuckin' whores…' he mumbled in a drunken slur, stumbling down the cobbled streets of London. 'None of 'em like that little blonde slut.' He grinned horribly, the words slipping from his parted lips like blunt daggers. Although he had questioned the Judge many times on the absence of his ward, he had managed to retract no information. Never before had he met a girl so young and soft. Other prostitutes he came across were street-wise and bold, shielded with acute awareness and the normality of abuse. Johanna had been different. Each time she screamed it made the man mad with lust and power… the _power _he had over the child was immensely satisfying. She was soft and feminine, often confused and full of drugs which resulted in her heartbroken sobs and pleas. He missed tearing at her unmarred skin. He missed corrupting a girl so disgustingly, intoxicatingly young and naïve. He wanted to blemish the sweetness of her body, the sweetness he had been deprived of for months.

The man took a swig of his bottle, wiping his mouth with his grubby fingers. In the darkness his eyes glittered, hooded with black rings and the folds of his eyelids. Stringy hair fell over his forehead and into his eyes, scoring his cheek where a thin silver scar snaked up his face. Froth from his drink dotted his rough, dry lips and a jacket hung heavily on his shoulders like a dead man. Bleary-eyed, he turned into Fleet Street and threw his bottle hard on the cobble-stones, watching as it shattered into brown shards at his feet. He observed the row of houses and shops with a dull interest, until something caught his eye: Sitting at the illuminated window of 186 Fleet Street was a familiar-looking girl. She had a pale, childish face and waterfalls of golden-yellow hair tumbling down her back. She gazed wistfully out of the window with her luscious blue eyes, a smile triggering the roundness of her cheeks.

Johanna.

The man's own lips curled into a wicked smile. 'So there's the little lark!' he spat, hobbling forwards. He ducked into an alleyway and threw his back against the cold stone, his heart beating. He grinned in revolting triumph, forming a plan in his mind. As he did so he snaked a hand down his pants, releasing months of pent up sexual desire with the image of Johanna still fresh in his mind.

**Jesus what a freak! D:**

**Well, I won't deny how weird this chapter will probably make me seem but… trust me, I'm not a sexual predator! (but I think we've established that this dude is.) No prizes for guessing who it is… if you're unsure or if you've forgotten then all will be revealed soon. Erm, rather unfortunate for ****_SOME _****characters. **

** But how will he get a hold of Johanna when her father guards her with such a fierce protection?**

**And what about that meddling sailor? (Okay, this is starting to sound like a fucked up episode of Scooby-Doo.)**

**Review if you want to. It's not my best chapter I must say but it's sort of a build-up to the big crescendo of the fic. If you can call it that.**

**Thank you!**


	7. Elope

**The reviews have been great to receive so THANK YOU AWESOME REVIEWERS! **

**I felt I was being a little hard on our young sailor so I'll try not to torture him too much in this chapter. **

**John Brandon still exists… unfortunately. Yes, this disturbing plot-point will lead us somewhere :(**

**Also I want to make it clear that this is a Sweeney/Johanna fic more than a Johanna/Anthony fic but I will try to make things work to his advantage in this chapter… I've always liked that boy!**

**Don't forget to review if you liked or hated and warnings for sexual references and swearing in this chapter but… there shouldn't be too much of that going on! ;)**

Over the weeks John Brandon became more and more obsessed over the girl. He would steal glances at her from outside her window, fantasize about her and go mad with lust at the thought of her soft angel-body crushed up against his. The girl had not yet left her home so John had not yet been given the chance; But when he _had _the chance he'd pin that girl to the wall and fuck her in a flash, no matter who was watching.

Anthony was also intent on bringing Johanna with him. Upon discovering that Sweeney never let her outside he made a vow to rescue her from her new prison, willing to steal any chance at all to elope with the girl.

Johanna simply sat in blissful oblivion to both of these things. Each day she sat happily by her window, sewing or reading. Her father would often join her, watching as the golden sunlight was filtered through the glass and radiated onto her angelic face. He would talk to her, read to her, or simply sit with her on his knee with her arms roped around his neck. Sweeney Todd had never felt happier. Bit by bit Benjamin Barker returned to his soul, restoring his humanity, restoring his heart.

'You're sure you'll be alright?' Todd asked, concerned.

'I'll be fine,' Johanna reassured him. 'I'm sixteen years old.' Sweeney looked down at her, unconvinced. She didn't at all _look _sixteen.

'I want you to come and get me if there's a problem,' he said firmly, resting a hand on hers. She let out a little giggle.

'I'm only going to bed… what could happen?'

'You could wake up from a nightmare.'

'I can handle it.'

'I don't want you to be scared without me,' Sweeney's composure once again drained from him. There was a nervous edge to his voice, as if it almost pained him to think of leaving the girl for a night. At least once a week Johanna would wake up with nightmares. Every time her father would be sitting opposite her. He'd whisper: 'go back to bed' and the mellow sound of his voice would lull her back to sleep again.

Although simple nightmares seemed like trivial things, they could be extremely damaging to Johanna. It would often just take a second to relive snippets of a man breathing heavily beside her, and the girl would wake with a frightened start.

'Are you sure?' Sweeney asked again. Johanna paused. She nodded.

'I'm sure.'

'Alright. Goodnight Johanna.'

'Goodnight father.' As Sweeney stood up he let his fingers gently slide away from his daughter's hand, stealing one last glance at her before leaving the room.

* * *

Halfway through the night, Johanna awoke to a shadowed figure standing hunched in the corner. Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to scream.

'Shh! It's me!' the figure took a darting step forward, leaving Johanna with her mouth open in stunned alarm.

'Anthony?!' she breathed, propping herself up on her elbows. She saw Anthony's face stir in the darkness; no doubt his mouth was curled into a smile.

'Yes, it's me Johanna.' Johanna's brow folded in confusion.

'But… what are you doing here?!' The words were blurted from her mouth and ended abruptly in an awkward pause. Anthony shuffled forward, removing his hat and letting his golden-brown hair fall onto his shoulders; Johanna had never properly admired it before.

'I want to talk to you,' he said gently, sitting on the edge of her bed.

'What's this all about?'

'Johanna…' he ducked his head and the girl watched his beautiful hair flop forwards. 'Johanna I… I want us to get married.' A grin crept onto Johanna's face.

'Get married?'

'Yes.'

'Well that's always been the plan,' she cocked her head to one side inquiringly. 'Anthony… what's this really about?' She blinked up at him sweetly with her bright blue eyes, the smile still edged half-way onto her lips. Anthony gave a great sigh, causing his shoulders to slump.

'I need to know now Johanna.'

'Need to know what?'

'Whether you love me or not; whether you _want _to marry me.'

Johanna paused and the grin was tugged abruptly from her face. Her heart thumped beneath her breast and she shifted forwards on her bed. Her eyes flickered over Anthony's silhouetted body. She stared at the soft features of his face: the gentle curve of his chin, the elegant arch of his nose and his warm, hopeful eyes. Was this not the face she had longed to see? When she was trapped in the Turpin household was this not the face, the vision she had yearned for? It wasn't her _father's _face that had comforted her through those dark times… It was Anthony's. She brought a hand forwards and ran her fingers through his soft hair. As she pushed it back behind his ear she propelled herself forwards, pulling herself towards Anthony until their bodies collided. He saw this as an invitation to gently wrap his arms around her back, sifting her hair through his fingers. Johanna slid her legs from the bed and pushed herself against Anthony, embracing him passionately.

'I love you,' she whispered, hugging him fiercely. 'Of course I love you… why ever would you think I wouldn't?' Anthony breathed out a sigh, closing his eyes slowly.

'Well you never want to spend time with me.' The sentence came out much harsher than he had intended it. Johanna tensed a little.

'What do you mean?'

'You'd rather spend time with your father,' he muttered, jealousy causing the words to suffer a sharp pang.

'Well… I've only just met my father Anthony. I've missed out on a lot of things with him,' Johanna buried her face deep into his chest. 'I still wanted to marry you! Why didn't you say something?' Anthony paused; the question had stumped him.

'I suppose I didn't want your father to get angry at me.'

'My father doesn't control my life,' Johanna whispered, suddenly struck with this epiphany. 'I don't _have _to listen to my father…' she said it more to herself than to Anthony. A new excited passion seared through her, adrenalin thumping through her veins like red-hot paroxysm. She suddenly curled her fingers into fists, her heart leaping with rebellious excitement. She was gripped with the invigorating revelation of defying her father. It was like a barrier in her life had been broken down, her mind had been struck with something, eagerness had been injected into her system, making her alive again.

Johanna held nothing against her father.

She did indeed love her father.

But when she looked over her life… it was only then that she realized how dull it was.

She didn't want her life to be a slightly more loving reprise of her years in captivity.

She didn't want to spend her life curled up on Papa's lap.

She wanted to live.

She wanted to sail the world and see its wonders…

'Will you run away with me?!' Anthony blurted. Johanna snapped her head from his chest abruptly. She eyed him up and down, mulling the question over in her head.

Would she really go that far?

'Yes.'

Anthony's young face broke out into a heart-warming smile. Johanna stroked the palm of her hand against his cheek. She suddenly crushed her mouth into his. Anthony rebounded for a split second before pushing hard against the surprising force of her delicate lips. She wound her arms around his neck and he did likewise, wrapping a hand onto her waist. As they kissed passionately a hungry moan was elicited from Johanna's throat. She had never felt like this; she had never shared a moment so intimate and yet so loving with another human before. She had been kissed in this manner by a man before, but she had never _enjoyed _it.

Anthony's hands slipped lower down the back of her body, stroking the arch of her back and the curve of her waist. His heart thumped beneath his shirt, Johanna's breasts pushed up against his chest. He eyed them coyly before turning his attention to the woman he loved so much. Johanna continued to kiss him deeply, loving the feeling of his hands on her body. She rubbed at his neck, working her soft fingers on his face. All of a sudden he clamped down on her with his hands, lifting her upwards into the air. She let out a breathy squeal of delight, winding her legs around his waist. They continued to kiss passionately, Anthony spinning Johanna in his arms. The girl giggled quietly at the small intervals between kissing, caressing her soft lips against Anthony's. It was Anthony that slowly pulled away, grinding to a halt and allowing her to slide elegantly down his body. He gripped her hand in his and the two reprised the tune they had sung earlier.

'And we'll sail the world and see its wonders, from the pearls of Spain to the rubies of Tibet, and then come home to London…' Johanna eyed the door beside her, knowing that her father was sleeping in that room.

'…Someday…' With a sad turn of the head she faced Anthony again, giving him a feeble smile to tell him she was alright. She leaned forwards and kissed him one more time, needing the comforting relief his lips brought her.

'Step outside and I'll get dressed,' she whispered, giving him a playful shove on the shoulder to ensure he left the room. Grinning, Anthony stumbled through the door and closed it behind him, flattening himself against the wall.

Johanna slid her chemise from her body and carefully folded it back on her bed. She re-tied her corset and tugged her underskirts up her legs, pausing to select her dress. She chose a tempting red that fitted close to her body, dipping down at her chest and emphasizing her sizable cleavage…her father _hated_ that dress…

Johanna stopped as she started tying the ribbons of her skirts. She bit her lip and felt her eyes welling up with tears. Letting the ties fall from her slack fingers she trudged solemnly to the door of Sweeney's bedroom, pressing her forehead against the cool wood. 'I'm sorry father,' she whispered, tears falling from her cheeks. 'I will come back… I swear… I will come back to you…'

'Johanna?' Anthony called gently. 'Are you ready yet my love?'

'I'll be out in a minute,' she sighed. 'Goodbye father.' With one last touch of the door Johanna walked away.

* * *

Anthony and Johanna made their way downstairs silently. 'Your father just wants you to be happy,' Anthony assured her. 'He knows I'll take care of you.' Still unsure, Johanna leaned against the boy, sighing heavily.

'Come on,' he whispered, looping his arm through hers and steering her downstairs. 'This is the easiest way out.' He gently tugged Johanna into the hallway and began to descend down the stone steps into the bake-house.

Johanna had never been into the bake-house before. Her father had told her not to, he said to let Mrs. Lovett get on with her work. 'Here we are,' the boy gritted his teeth and shouldered the heavy metal door, shoving it open. He took Johanna's hand and steered her inside.

The bake-house was dim apart from the feeble glow of the open oven. The walls were damp with rainwater and grime lined the corners of the room. Johanna wrinkled her nose at the stench. _The sewers _she thought.

Blood dribbled darkly from the metal edges of Mrs. Lovett's grinder, the handle rusted with age and unattractive lumps of grey meat clogging it.

'This way.' Anthony attempted to take Johanna's hand which he had let fall by her side but all of a sudden he gave an almighty jerk. 'OH GOD!' He screamed, abruptly pulling away from his lover. His voice echoed through the large room, causing Johanna to whip her head around anxiously.

'Anthony, w-what is it?' her lip trembled in concern and she followed the route Anthony's eyes had taken.

With her mouth open in horror and her eyes wide Johanna stumbled backwards, letting out a dry, terrified scream.

Littered on the stone floor of the bake-house were corpses.

Human corpses; skeletons with hollow eyes and lopsided jaws, tangles of bones mingled with slabs of rotting flesh, severed limbs in their different stages of decay and full skeletons clad in men's clothes.

Johanna took a step backwards, her eyes wide and her chest heaving in and out. Yellow light flickered across human remains, drawing attention to the dried pool of black blood that was circling Johanna's feet.

Sweat gathered on her forehead and she closed her eyes. _This can't be happening, this can't be happening. _Johanna felt herself sway on the spot as she swallowed back a thick lump of bile that had risen in her throat. When her eyes snapped open again the bodies were still lying on the ground, their empty bloody holes of mouths still open in a silent scream…

Johanna was gone. Anthony hardly heard the delicate patter of feet on stone, nor did he catch sight of yellow hair streaming out in a frenzied run, but if he did he wouldn't be much use. Anthony was rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on the knot of bodies bleeding out onto the floor. His jaw fell in horror as he eyed the skeletons, his terror only increasing when he realized his beloved was not there. 'JOHANNA!' He screamed, dashing away from the corpses. 'JOHANNA!' Johanna was nowhere to be found. She must have bolted in sheer panic. 'JOHANNA!' Anthony bellowed one last time, darting through the stone archway that led to the sewers. His heart fell when he heard a familiar voice bellowing from above:

'JOHANNA!'

So Anthony had roused the murderer.

**Erm… yeah :/**

**I've been up to London for a couple of days and haven't been able to write so excuse the sloppiness.**

**I feel a bit meh about this chapter but you tell me what YOU think!**

**THANK YOU FOR READING!**


	8. Where is she?

Anthony stood in horror, shaking from head to foot. All too soon Todd's silhouette became visible in the stone archway where the boy was standing. He had a restless stance, like a predator about to pounce on his prey. Again Anthony stood rooted to the spot, his body one step behind his brain. His movements were jarred and awkward, like he couldn't decide what to do with himself. Endless thoughts spewed from his mind, overflowing and tumbling deep into a confusing web of questions. Sweeney began to advance forwards, steadily and almost calmly. It was only when light flickered over his form that Anthony could see how his face was twisted in rage. He turned to run, only to be yanked forwards and wrung roughly by his coat lapel. 'Where is she!?' Todd spat, his features distorted with anger. Anthony opened his mouth hopelessly but no words came out… he could merely stare at the man, at the murderer, who was wringing him roughly. And blaming him for the disappearance of his beloved daughter.

_Oh… Shit._

Todd gave him another shake, as if to prove his point, but Anthony was still struck dumb with fear. Sighing angrily the barber pushed him backwards with such a force that he landed hard on his back. He gave a yelp of pain as his spine collided with the floor, frustrated tears stinging his eyes.

'_You're a murderer!'_ He managed to squeal, still suffering from his episode of pain. Todd gave a dry, humorless snort of laughter.

'Oh, so it has a tongue?' He reached down, causing Anthony to flinch, but instead offered the boy his hand. Too frightened to take it, Anthony got to his feet independently, wincing slightly as his back suffered a painful twinge. Sweeney took a step forwards, his eyes boring into Anthony. The boy tried to stand still, although the temptation to flinch away from the man was overpowering.

'S-sir,' he managed to say, swallowing thickly. 'Did you kill those men?' Todd's brow went through a strange fit of contracting and then relaxing. He sucked in through his teeth, toying with the question in his mind like a cat with a ball of string. He lifted his head upwards, not meeting Anthony's eyes.

'Yes,' he said. 'I killed them.' Anthony gave a frightened whimper, taking a step back from Sweeney instinctively. His head span with questions, reeling into a dizzy spiral of thoughts.

'Does… does Johanna know?' he whispered.

'No, I never told her,' Todd muttered, his voice falling. He suddenly jerked forwards with a strong push of the leg, seizing a fistful of Anthony's coat once more. 'So, where…is…_she!?' _ He hissed through gritted teeth, taking a menacing step nearer with every word. The boy swallowed.

'She's gone.'

'What do you mean?'

'She saw the bodies and she… she ran away.' Todd let his eyelids fall in deep frustration.

'Well _that _is bloody brilliant,' he muttered, shaking his head. He let go off Anthony, backing away slightly and frowning. 'What were you doing here anyway?' he asked, raising an eyebrow.

'I…I was…' Anthony stuttered. '…Erm…' Todd glared at him. 'I was planning to erm… to…'

'To what? Just tell me!'

'To…_leave _with Johanna.' Todd remained eerily calm at this confession, saying only

'I told you I wouldn't allow it.' The words came out in a feeble undertone, as Sweeney was more worried for the safety of his child rather than anything. He skirted past Anthony, brushing against him gently in the narrow alleyway. It was only then that Anthony realized Todd was fully dressed. He frowned.

'Sir?' he whispered. 'Do you _ever _sleep?' Todd whipped around, irked at the randomness and uselessness of the boy's question.

'Sometimes.' He rubbed a hand over his face. 'Listen to me, Anthony,' he said, his voice furnished with a warning tone. 'Johanna could be in great danger right now; there's a reason I never let her outside!' Anthony felt a pang of guilt. 'What I mean to say is, there's about a ninety-nine percent chance that something God-awful will happen, and if it does I'm holding _you _personally responsible!... but nonetheless, if we want to find her we have to… work together. I know you've seen some terrible things tonight Anthony, but you must believe me when I say that's all in the past; Johanna _is_ my life now, and I'm sure she's a great big part of _your_ life too. We have to get her back, and quickly,' he paused, anxious. 'I hate to dread what would happen to her outside my protection.'

As Sweeney murmured the last line, Anthony fought the temptation to roll his eyes. He simply could not understand why Todd thought Johanna wholly relied on him… she was sixteen for God's sake! She was a woman capable of making decisions for herself.

Anthony and Sweeney left the pie-shop, taking different directions in the road. As Anthony walked away he vowed something: He would find Johanna before any man could touch a hair on her head. And when he did, he would make sure she'd never make contact with her insane murderous father again.

* * *

Johanna stumbled aimlessly through the tangle of trees. Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed softly, the bitter cold air biting at her bare arms. She ploughed herself onwards, brambles clawing at her clothes and skin; she had always wanted to go outside, but she never imagined it would be like this.

The night was fierce. The wind was cold and cruel, and Johanna could only feel out in front of her in order to find any sense of direction, for she could see absolutely nothing. The dark of her dress blended effortlessly with the black of the night, bathing her form in shadow. She shivered as heavy droplets of rain were filtered through the tree's leaves, landing heavily on her body. She wrapped her arms around herself, longing for the warmth of her shawl or her father's jacket… No. She mustn't think of her father. Her father was a murderer and nothing more.

Johanna let out a heartbroken sob, unbelieving of the fact that her own father had caused the corpses to jostle on the bake-house floor. Yes, she knew Sweeney had an angry streak, but he would never hurt another human being like that… would he?

She stopped abruptly, mulling it over in her head. That morning when she'd woken up to see her father's face for the first time, she'd asked about the Judge. Todd dismissed the question, asking instead if she'd had a good nights' sleep.

A mere two weeks ago she'd asked again what had become of the Judge. She'd noticed Sweeney's face break out into mellow panic before he walked over and embraced her, telling her that nothing would ever harm her again. Had he really killed the Judge?

Johanna walked on, telling herself that she would forgive Sweeney of murdering Judge Turpin. He would be doing society a favor, at least.

_But all those other men…_

She stopped once more, her heart pounding with fear.

_All those innocent men with families… children…_

Again crying, the girl hitched up her skirts and ran full-pelt through the small forest, trying to escape her distressing thoughts. Her mind blurred… corpses on the floor…Eloping with Anthony… sleeping with strangers… It did not take long for her to trip on a tree-root and land chest-first on the sludgy ground. A curtain of yellow hair fell over her face, obscuring her view through a thin sheet of rain. She clamped her arms down into the ground, half-hoisting herself upwards.

All of a sudden someone grabbed her from behind, lifting her roughly yet effortlessly from the ground. Johanna jerked in shock, feeling a hand clamp onto her mouth… a small, grubby hand. She frowned in fear, her face collapsing into a cocktail of intense emotions. The tiniest sob got caught in her throat as she felt the most horribly familiar arm tug her waist towards his torso. All her fears were confirmed when she heard a raspy voice speak.

'Hello there my little lark.'

**DUN-DUN-DUN! **

**Well, things are looking pretty shit for Johanna to tell the truth :/**

**But perhaps Anthony or Sweeney could save her in time?**

**Of course they couldn't!**

**Could they? … um… maybe. **


	9. John Brandon

**This chapter rated M! M ALL THE WAY THIS CHAPTER GETS ****TOTALLY ****OUT OF HAND!**

**I'M WARNING YOU THIS IS VERY SEXUAL AND GRAPHIC AND VERY UPSETTING AND YOU WILL PROBABLY HATE ME FOREVER FOR POSTING IT! **

**I just want to clarify that it was a hard chapter to post because I didn't really know where 'the line' was. I just wanted to make this villain totally and utterly despicable.**

**(It was also very upsetting to write and I didn't really enjoy it… but it's pretty dramatic.)**

**Contains violent VIOLENT stuff! **

Johanna's blood ran cold and a scream rose in her throat. It was stifled by John Brandon's hand. He gave a cruel laugh, whipping the girl's body around and forcing her forwards into the darkness of the night. Johanna shook in desperation, the darkness agonizing and the cold excruciating. John felt her quiver beneath his hands. 'You're cold,' he whispered, his foul breath hot on her neck. 'We'll soon have that seen to…' Johanna gave a desperate thrash, trying to shake John's hand away to no effect. As her petrified body adjusted to the feeling of him against her, she noticed he'd managed to ram one of her wrists up between her shoulder blades and pin her there. His other hand was clamped tightly against her torso, his thumb mere centimeters away from the curve of her breast.

She was propelled forwards by his strong arms, cold sweat against her brow. Now that his hand was peeled from her mouth she thought about screaming… but when she attempted to it came out as a frightened choke. John stopped abruptly. He wrung her like a doll and forced her onto the moist ground. She greeted the floor with a loud thud, her back jarring against the force of his push. Scrambling backwards she could make out wet leaves beneath her hands, as well as John's silhouette breaking the silence of the sky. He took a mere second before pouncing on her, snatching up her wrists in his hand and holding them above her head. Johanna stared up at the blank sky, heaving her breaths in and out. Something cold was pressed against the soft skin of her temple. Her eyes widened as she heard it click. A gun. 'Don't even think about screaming yeh little whore!' John spat, pressing the pivot of his pistol deep into her scalp. Whilst they were both down on the ground he took a minute to lick at her cheek before heaving her back upright by the flimsy lace of her bodice.

Soon Johanna felt firm cobblestones beneath her feet. The amber glows of houses were visible in the dim street, but John steered her away from them, his grubby fingers gliding thoughtfully over the handle of his pistol. 'I swear to God, don't make a sound!' he hissed. 'I'd fuck a dead girl as happily as a living one!' Johanna cried out, only to be elbowed in the back sharply. 'Shut _up!' _he spat.

Soon the two reached a clearing surrounded by black, box-like houses. John nudged his way through a door, tugging Johanna in after him. He threw her to the ground and closed the door.

_'NO!' _Johanna screamed. John advanced towards her, snatching up her feeble body and wrestling her towards the bed. It was shallow and wooden; it could have been a crate.

The child was flung upon the mattress, only to be hungrily kissed by her captor. He crushed his mouth into hers, seizing her yellow hair savagely. As he breathed in her sweet youthful smell his fingers wandered around her body. 'LET ME GO!' Johanna screamed, pounding at him uselessly with her fists. John bit down hard on her lip until he tasted blood. The metallic taste was welcome on his tongue; He licked it up like a cannibal, making Johanna sick to the stomach. From her nightmares she remembered his eyes cloud with lust… they did so and he grinned wickedly before tearing at her clothes.

His fingers ripped at the seams of her dress, stripping the halves of material from her chest. Her body jerked involuntarily to the movements of his hands, and another throttled cry departed her mouth, coupled with tears. Never before had Johanna felt so helpless; here she was, all alone without Anthony or Sweeney to help her. No-one knew where she was. _She _didn't know where she was.

John had stripped her down to her underthings. Her corset did not accommodate her breasts well and they spilled out over the top. John ran his hands along the bumps in her bodice, drawing a snippy, lustful sigh. His eyes bulged as he fumbled with her front, unlacing quickly. _'NO!'_ Suddenly Johanna drew backwards with a snap of her otherwise stationary legs. She aimed a kick at John's groin, propelling herself away from the man and falling from the bed. She toppled on to the floor, only to bravely drag herself upwards again and limp towards the door. She didn't get far. John seized hold of her, an arm around her throat, and forced her backwards onto the bed. She screamed as he fell atop her, drawing an arm backwards into the air. She saw his livid eyes glinting in the moonlight before he drove his fist forwards and punched her hard in the face. Feeling her nose crack, Johanna yelped, trying to fling her arms and shield her face. John continued to punch until blood spurted from her nose and trailed into her punctured lip and mouth that was open in horror. Tearing savagely, the man ripped the corset from her and threw it to the ground.

'Someone's been a bad girl!' he breathed. Reaching out a hand he squeezed one of her breasts painfully, kneading it between his fingers.

'Stop it! _Stop it!' _ Blood ran down Johanna's face and clogged her throat. She clenched her fists and tried to shield her chest from John's wandering hands. 'Don't you dare touch me!' her voice was uncertain, riddled with fear. Ignoring her protests, John unbuckled his pants and dragged them down his legs. Averting her eyes, Johanna gave a grunt of disgust only to have her chin gripped by his fingers.

'Look at me slut!' he hissed, and dove his head to her immaculate shoulder. She could feel his tongue against the curve of her neck as he bit down hard on her white skin. A shriek sounded from her throat.

'Get off!' she squealed desperately. 'Let me go… I'm…I'm...!' John continued to molest her like he hadn't heard. Johanna closed her eyes and directed her head to the ceiling. She knew there was one man who would never allow this…

John's fingers crept up her thigh, folding back her skirt.

There was a man who would kill John Brandon just for daring to touch her…

His palm slapped down hard and hungry on her leg, digging his nails into her soft virgin skin.

_'FATHER!' _Johanna snapped her eyes open and screamed.

'SHUT UP!' John whipped a hand to her throat and silenced her. Gargling blood and screams, she clawed at his tight fingers. 'Quite the little spitfire ain't we?' he leered, and tore the child's remaining clothes away.

'Oh, I've missed this!' his voice was low and husky; disgusting. With the naked girl beneath him he very slowly inched his rough hand up the inside of her leg. He dug his sharp nails into her skin, causing beads of blood to roll sideways down her thigh like crimson tears. Johanna flinched at each little incision but was too despaired to move. Tears dribbled from her dim eyes and her arms lay limp by her sides. John continued to cut at her with his fingernails, licking his lips as the blood appeared. Unable to resist he leaned down and lapped up the spots of salty blood. 'You taste delicious little one!' he rasped, blood-specked saliva dribbling from the corner of his mouth. Johanna's eyes narrowed.

'You're sick!' she screeched. 'You're a sick bastard!' Her leg quivered under his grip, sore with fresh scars. John's brow laced together. He drew in his breath and spoke, his voice eerily calm.

'You're right…' he muttered. 'It's time we had some fun_,' _his fingers glided to his belt that was looped around his ankles. '…but first…' Hand closing around the silver handle of his second weapon, the vile man grinned. Johanna let out a long hard scream as a knife became visible in the moon's gleam. He dove it into Johanna's thigh, listening in erotic agony as the blade sliced through her sensitive tendons.

'NO! STOP! STO- _NO!' _There was the most awful of grins on John Brandon's face as he withdrew the bloodied knife, wrenched Johanna's knees apart, and stuck the blade deep between her legs.

The pain was unbearable.

She arched her back and screamed_, _her vision dancing before her in red dots.

John twisted the knife inside of her, laughing insanely.

With the blade firm against her sensitive bundle of nerves, John tore it from her before ploughing forwards and entering her roughly.

Johanna screamed as John thrust up against her brand new wound; when she wasn't drugged it was so much worse.

As he raped her he ruptured her tender, shattered skin.

All hope was lost.

Johanna was back on the bed with rough hands on her unmarred skin…

Back, deep deep down with a hand on her thigh.

No…

Her father was there rocking her gently.

Her father was there running his fingers through her golden hair.

'Get away from her!' a voice shrieked from behind them. Johanna raised her head hopefully to see Anthony drag at John's coat lapel. His weight was lifted from her frail body and thrown to the ground. She screamed as John fished for his knife, but Anthony knocked it out of his hand, sending it skidding away. John restrained the boy, seizing hold of his throat with one hand and punching him with the other.

'NO!' Johanna swung her legs out of the bed before collapsing to the ground in pain. 'ANTHONY!' She screamed, crawling towards them pathetically. She could see John's back and his hand pounding Anthony's lifeless face. 'LEAVE HIM ALONE!' with a jolt forwards she crept behind them… but Anthony's face was lost in a mess of blood.

John stood and kicked at him, leaving the sailor a heap on the ground. Johanna quivered, her eyes wide and her hand clutching her stomach. With strong arms the man lifted her forcefully back onto the bed. 'No!' she sobbed. 'Anthony! You'd better not have killed his or I swear to god I'll—'

'You'll what?' John slapped her face hard and entered her once more. The girl screamed, blood running down her thighs, tears rolling down her cheeks and John Brandon pumping into her savagely, grunting and panting like an animal.

She didn't see the arm appear.

Before she'd opened her heavy eyes, John was dragged from her yet again, sent crashing to the ground shoulder-first. She sat bolt upright. A man was beating the life out of John Brandon, his fist pounding against the man's face over and over. He gave livid yelps as blood coated his white knuckles. Johanna gasped. Sweeney.

'Father!' Sweeney continued to punch John like he hadn't heard; it would kill him to see Johanna like this.

What was he thinking?

No.

Get rid of the man first.

Johanna pushed herself determinedly from the bed, again landing on the floor.

'Father!' she called again desperately.

How could he ignore his girl?

With three more punches to the face, John was out, bleeding onto the floor. Todd stood and turned reluctantly.

Johanna was before him, naked, her nose busted, her lip bleeding, her face tear-stained and a savagely hacked parting between her legs. Blood ran down her legs in a steady stream insanely fast.

'Shit…' he ran towards his girl and lifted her up against him by her arms. Johanna clung to his shoulders and crushed her face against his chest, sobbing.

'YOU'RE A MURDERER!' she screamed. 'A _MURDERER!' _Todd wrapped his arms around her tightly, unable to rid his mind of the terrible scene that had just greeted his eyes. He'd kill that man. He'd kill him. Johanna screamed and Sweeney felt her body go limp. Scooping her very gently he attempted to rest her head on his shoulder but the movement jolted her legs and she let out an almighty screech of pain.

'Shit!' blood soaked Sweeney's arms from between Johanna's legs. His face went pale. This was not just from the rape; the sick bastard must have knifed her. John stirred from his heap on the floor. Todd lay the unconscious Johanna back down onto the bed. He whipped around to see John Brandon standing unsteadily. With another punch he'd knocked him to the ground, but the scrawny man was stronger than he looked; He seized hold of Sweeney and dragged him to the floor, aiming a fist at his face. Todd whipped his head aside and narrowly missed the attack, causing Brandon to graze his knuckles on the floor beside the barber's head. Sweeney swung his arm in blind rage and missed the man too, causing him to leap forward into thin air and land against his shoulder. He fell to the floor before rolling back, dragging John with him, and sitting atop him. Over and over again he drove his fist into the man's crimson face, seething and spitting. Brandon regained his wits, digging his sharp nails into Todd's cheek. Beads of blood formed on his face and the fight got more involved, quicker. Soon they were rolling aimlessly on the floor, punching and clawing at one another.

Amongst it all, Johanna screamed silently. Blood leaked out freely from her wound, painting the grubby cream bedcovers a dark and garish red. She could feel her heart pounding in her ear, hot sweat sticking her head to the pillows. The top of the room zoomed in and out of focus, only a lone lantern visible in Johanna's confused mind. Several things flitted past her brain… Sometimes she'd be down on the bed being stabbed by a madman… sometimes she'd be lying at home convincing herself it was a dream. She'd wake up and her father would be there…

Her father…

Groggily, the girl lifted her heavy head and gripped the sides of the crate-like bed. She gasped when she saw John Brandon and her father fighting on the floor. 'Father!' Todd was almost defeated. As strong a man he was, the sight of Johanna seemed to have… weakened him. He couldn't simply murder a man when he knew she was bleeding to death beside him; Benjamin Barker told him to help, Sweeney Todd told him to fight. His soul was split, fifty-fifty. Instead of making a decision he just lay there, making a half-hearted attempt to fight Brandon back. All the anger he tried to pump into the man simply did not work.

Silently, Johanna crept from the bed, digging her nails deep into her painful stomach. She hissed in pain but remained silent as she sneaked past the two and towards the heap of Anthony. Her shoulders jerked with silent sobs but she swallowed them back, scrambling desperately with her hands. Her fingers found a sticky pool of blood… beside the gun that had fallen from Brandon's pocket earlier. Snatching up the gun in her shaking fingers she unsteadily got to her feet.

'Johanna, no!' Sweeney started, but it was too late. Flicking the gun with a flex of her finger she aimed it at John. But as she did so a pain gripped her and her hand lost control of the gun. She clenched it in her balled fist and despite her best efforts it fell from her limp fingers.

A shot rung through the air.

It sunk deep into a soft pile of skin.

Not John Brandon's skin.

Johanna screamed.

**Again, I am just... ****_sorry_**


	10. Rescue

**Damn it, I'm so bad at suspense…**

**Just before I start this, I would like to say that I've always liked Johanna; She's one of my favorite characters, but there's honestly something so sweet about a father saving his daughter and the emotions in-between that made me want to write about it.**

**I'm pretty sure there's some Sweeney/Johanna (Sweeanna?) people out there, and although they go through a bad bend in this story, some good things are still to come. **

**I'm just thankful no-ones turned up at my house and killed me yet…**

**Your reviews have been awesome to receive! **

The bullet drove forward.

The gun spiraled through the air.

The girl screamed.

'ANTHONY!' the bullet jerked Anthony's lifeless body, causing more of his blood to pool on the ground. 'OH GOD, NO!' She scrambled towards him, turning him onto his side desperately. Blood gushed from the bullet wound as Johanna gripped his pale face in both her hands. 'Anthony…' She seized hold of his shoulders and shook him, causing his neck to flip lifelessly. 'Anthony.' Her voice grew quieter with each installment and she slowly collapsed beside her lover, her blood mingling with his.

'JOHANNA!' Todd bellowed. He'd seen her crumple to the floor beside a presumably dead Anthony. 'Jo-' He was cut short by Brandon seizing hold of his throat.

Todd could only release throttled cries as the air was squeezed from him. He reached up to push John from him but his acts remained unbeneficial; the man continued to choke him, driving the back of Sweeney's neck deep into the floor.

His head was pinned to the ground as his eyes flickered around the room in panic. Each push of John Brandon's fingers brought him closer to death. Sweeney knew all too well what Brandon would do to Johanna once he was dead.

Groggily, Johanna managed to heave herself from the floor. Her heart thumped in rage and she clenched her fists at the sight of the rapist beating her father. John Brandon had driven her to murder Anthony. John Brandon had stolen her childhood. John Brandon would not steal her father.

Edging sneakily across the room, Johanna side-stepped the two men brawling on the floor and pushed herself flat against the shady walls of the room. As her form was bathed in shadow she dropped to her knees, crawling silently and feeling out in front of her with her hands. The blade John Brandon had dropped whilst fighting Anthony greeted her fingers. She withdrew it carefully, listening in anguish as it scraped loudly across the floor. Taking a deep breath she leapt to her feet and launched herself at the two men. Trying to channel power into her dainty wrist she shot at John and stabbed the knife deep into the side of his throat.

John released a yelp of pain; her feeble stab had not allowed the blade to penetrate deep into his neck but he wasn't expecting it. In a moment of confused panic he shot his fist up to Johanna's face, causing her to squeal and topple backwards. Sweeney heaved himself from the ground until he was sitting up straight, dislodged the blade from John's neck and slit the man's throat hastily with skilled, killer's hands. Brandon's speech merged into a low gargle, blood spraying from the wide cut. He brought his hand up to shield himself, trying to stifle the flow of blood, but there was nothing he could do. Sweeney pressed a hand to his chest and another yanked at his hair, forcing the cut to widen. A smile crept onto his face as he listened to John's desperate yelps and felt him spasm in his grip. The man slowly grew limp and Todd allowed him to crash forward onto the floor.

Sweeney stood panting, the success of revenge still fresh within him. 'Johanna,' he mumbled, pulling himself to his feet. Johanna lay behind him, her face bearing the new blow John had given to her. He very gently leaned over and pushed a handful of yellow hair from her bloodied face. 'Johanna…' Todd's knees buckled and he fell beside his daughter, wanting to hold her but too scared to touch her. From a quick look down her body he could see that her legs and feet had been painted crimson, the lurid substance bleaching her purity, making her unclean. Blood continued to pour out from beneath her, staining the floor, and Sweeney sat in helpless horror watching her. 'Johanna!' he said again, louder. Johanna's white lips were parted and her eyes were closed, her skin was waxy and cold when Sweeney touched her forehead. Without thinking Todd tore off his coat and lifted her half from the ground. He threaded the coat through her arms, covering her bare body. When she was fully covered he anchored her head on his shoulder and lifted her from the ground into his arms.

* * *

Sweeney Todd had never run faster. He held his daughter's body close to him as he darted wildly through the streets of London. Blood coated the sleeve of his shirt as he ran, droplets of it dripping from the edges of Johanna's toes. Streams of red ran down her calf, flickering as they were discarded onto the filthy street. The streets were empty apart from the occasional whore who shot a pitying glance in Todd's direction. At long last he rounded the corner into Fleet Street.

'MRS. LOVETT!' he bellowed the minute he was inside. The door clattered behind him loudly and soon enough he heard hurrying footsteps on the stairs.

'All this shouting and runnin' about, what's happened?' Lovett mumbled, gathering the fold of her skirt in her hand. She let go the minute she turned a corner; Todd stood drenched in blood cradling a lifeless Johanna to his chest. 'Oh my _God!' _she squealed, clapping a hand to her mouth. 'What… what happened!?'

'I'll tell you later just… run, run and get a doctor _please _Mrs. Lovett _please!' _With hardly enough time to marvel over the fact that Todd had used manners towards her, Lovett edged past the two and shot outside.

'Mum! What's happening? Are you alright?!' She turned around in enough time to witness Toby blinking at her, startled. She shot him a false smile.

'I'm fine love… ask Mr. T!' With that the baker darted from the shop, pausing momentarily to hitch up her skirts before running as fast as her legs would allow through the streets. Toby turned reluctantly.

'M… Mr. Todd?' he breathed, his eyes widening at the sight of the barber. Sweeney edged past him, acting as if he hadn't heard. Toby's eyes fell on Johanna. 'What happened to Johanna?' he whispered.

'Nothing,' Sweeney said gruffly. He pushed past the boy and eased his way gently up the stairs, Johanna still limp in his grip.

'She's hurt,' Toby squeaked. He jogged along beside Todd, showering him with questions. 'Why's she wearing your coat? Who hurt her? What did he do? Why did she leave the house? Where's Anthony?' Ignoring him, the barber tenderly lowered Johanna onto her bed. It did not take long for the white sheets to bear her blood. He grunted in frustration and allowed his head to fall forwards.

**Remember guys, this is Victoria England so the medicine back then was pretty crap.**

**Don't worry, I won't kill her.**

**Or will I? **

**I'll update soon because I have the last couple of chapters ready... **


	11. Waiting

**This chapter starts off a bit… weird. Don't worry, the whole thing isn't like that though. **

Waiting.

It's never an easy task.

There is no activity to perturb the restless stream of tortured consciousness one suffers.

There is no comfort to find in the depths of one's mind that could soothe, or come close to soothing.

Waiting is a tormented stream of agonized existence… pain that is inflicted in the most mocking, eventless episodes of time.

Waiting cannot be restrained, distracted or quenched by any occurrence other than the one thing that evades one's mind and toys with one's emotions.

It is the most helpless and agonizing deprivation of mercy; to tell one to wait would be to condemn one to the solitary, tortured crevasses of one's own mind.

Waiting is a challenge.

Waiting is a chore.

Waiting… torture in itself.

'All good things come to those who can wait eh?' Todd muttered. Mrs. Lovett did not respond; the pain that furnished Sweeney's voice was enough to restrain any thoughts of trying him. She turned her head away from him and copied the route of his eyes that were staring blankly into the embers of the fire. Johanna was upstairs being tended to by the doctor… the doctor with his anxious eyes and sweaty hands. The doctor with his face pale and his sense agitated at the thought of confronting Sweeney. Yes, the doctor who'd said in a grave, regrettable voice to 'expect the worst.'

Todd was picking at his nails. Although the act was diminutive it surprised Mrs. Lovett; Mr. Todd either moved wholly or didn't move at all. The baker herself was fidgeting, jogging her leg as if a child was seated upon it. Sweeney's eyes flickered over it… Something about making his daughter laugh when she was a baby… and turned back to the fire.

No words could fill the void that spanned between them. Nothing could be done or said to any affect that might soothe, comfort or help either one of the people sitting hunched in the parlor of Mrs. Lovett's pie shop. Because waiting can't be filled. Waiting must be endured.

'Mum?' Toby croaked from the doorway. The tender noise of his voice made Todd uncomfortable. He didn't want to try and piece this boy, try to edge this boy into the torturous world that was his life. Truly, Sweeney's brain didn't have any more space to fit this child into… He could not spare the boy a thought, whether it be a kind one or a spiteful one, that could live out its time next to the ever-relentless cruelty of men. If there was any way of separating the two then he would.

The image of Johanna bleeding out helplessly couldn't be placed next to the image of Toby standing innocently; they were from two different universes, and should be kept that way, for one would not weld the image of an unforgivable sin such as rape with the pure and unmarred image of a _child._

For that reason Todd couldn't look at the boy as he made his way towards Lovett. 'It's alright love,' the baker said softly, her tone so easy it could have driven Todd to laugh or cry. She reached out a hand and pulled her son nearer, tugging him onto her lap. There was the way they held each other that made something stir inside the barber. Toby spread his legs out along Mrs. Lovett's knees, resting his head against her shoulder. A piece of her wiry brown hair settled on the top of his head, brushing against him. They seemed to hold each other as they sat, the women with the dull throb of her voice and the boy with his eager tenderness and loving embrace.

'He's asleep,' she announced ten minutes later, when Toby lay limp in her arms. The ruptured silence made her cringe inwardly, as it was only then that she realized how thin and pathetic her voice sounded in the infinite void of a father's torture, a father's mind.

But Sweeney clung to her voice.

'Is he?'

'Yes.'

A pause.

'Suppose you should move him?'

'S'pose I should.'

Needing no further persuasion, Lovett gently scooped Toby into her arms. His arm trailed by his side and scored lightly against the fabric of his mother's skirt causing his fingers to twitch in unconscious contact. As she pushed out of the room she eyed Todd.

Mrs. Lovett did not return after she put her son to bed.

Johanna's bedroom was excruciatingly quiet. Todd heard nothing apart from the occasional squeak of the Doctor's shoes against her floor. His ears listened with hyper intent and picked up on everything… but the only noises made were as a result of the doctor, not his daughter.

The doctor entered Mrs. Lovett's parlor with a grave face and bloodied hands. His eyes were clouded with sorrow and his words brimmed with the empathetic anticipation of bad news. 'Mr. Todd I'm afraid your daughter has suffered internal injuries because whoever raped her also knifed her.' The dry stream of his voice could not pause in any sort of reflection. The words were painful and difficult to say, such is the way of delivering any Bad News. Sweeney's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he stared deep into the pit of stubborn embers.

The embers had not yet ceased to dust.

Neither had Johanna.

'Will… will she survive it?'

'She may, she may not. There's no way of telling yet.'

'What are you going to do?'

'Stitch the area where she got knifed.'

Todd gave a little shiver.

_Why the fuck would you knife a kid?_

He clenched his hands into fists, raking the question over and over in his mind.

_A kid! A little girl! Why Johanna? Why _my _daughter?_

'Is… is she awake yet?' his voice was dry and scared, almost. The doctor sucked in through his teeth.

'Yes, but she is very weak.' Todd straightened up and then said with an eerie calmness:

'May I see her?'

The walk up the stairs and into Johanna's room glided past Sweeney. It seemed like mere seconds before he saw his daughter lying, tiny, on the bed, her skin white and crumpled as parchment.

He walked forwards steadily, taking her hands in his. 'Johanna,' he said softly.

Johanna's face was blank and her body was limp. The covers of her bed sheets were tucked underneath her armpits so both her arms lay out beside her.

Her golden hair haloed her face on the pillow, her bottom lip was embroidered with bite marks and little cuts dotting her skin.

It took a couple of minutes for her eyes to flicker open. When they did she observed her father with a feeble interest.

To Todd's surprise she smiled.

'Father?'

'It's me… It's alright you're safe now.'

'Thank you.'

'What?'

'You saved me… thank you.' She gave him a watery smile before whimpering in pain.

Her voice was thin and raspy, her breaths sounding painful to take.

It was painful to watch.

'Father… is Anthony dead?' Sweeney looked away, staring at the floor and closing his eyes.

'Yes my pet, I think he is.' Johanna took a pained intake of breath before exhaling with difficulty.

It took a long time before Todd realized she was crying.

'I'm sorry Johanna,' Sweeney whispered, leaning over to her. 'I'm so sorry.'

It was easy to lift Johanna from her covers.

_Too_ easy.

The girl buried herself in her father's arms, still crying. 'Daddy, my tummy hurts,' she squeaked, and Todd frowned at her painfully innocent choice of words. Was she just intent on torturing him?

It didn't take long for Johanna to fall limp again, although after checking she was still breathing.

Was it possible for a girl to look so… _small?_

All Sweeney could do now was wait.

But how could he when so many thoughts were swilling through his mind?

How could he when Johanna was lying so small in her bed?

Shaking his head he sat down in his barbering chair and attempted to wait for a couple of minutes.

'Aw, fuck this!' he spat, and heaved himself upright.


	12. Anthony

Sweeney fell into an listless walk, stumbling through the streets of London. After trailing along for what felt like hours he came to the same line of black, box-like houses. Sighing, he pushed the door open with his fist, allowing a gust of cold air to shoot through the room.

John Brandon lay on the floor beside the bed, blood pooling around his head. Anger swelled inside of Sweeney as he looked upon his daughter's rapist. Had it merely been only a few hours since he'd wrestled the man to the ground?

Trying to repress his red-hot anger he gave the body a kick, jerking it and causing more blood to spill from his neck. The man had enough control over himself to eventually turn away and slowly creep towards Anthony. He squinted at the sight of the boy's body, the very vision evoking a sort of pain within him.

Sweeney had never really _liked _Anthony… but there was a time before his love for Todd's daughter. There was a time before any talk of eloping. There was a time when a young boy with golden-brown hair gazed across over the sea, only to spot a man struggling for life on a badly-made raft. There was a time when that boy ran as fast as he could to the ship's captain, bellowing _'Man overboard!' _There was a time when he would insist Todd be left alone, when he would bring the man his food and ask him questions. Yes, Todd did like that boy. The boy who played cards with him, the boy who didn't question him any further than he wanted to be questioned, and the boy who actually made him laugh on one occasion.

That was the time when Benjamin Barker was still rather strong within him. That was the time that he had a shred of hope that he may come home to the loving kiss of a wife, the warm embrace of a daughter.

He came back to a dead wife, a missing child and a box of razors.

_Silver's good enough for me…_

It shocked Sweeney to the core over the fact that he would happily accept razors as his family.

_Silver's good enough for me._

Had Johanna felt that way too? When she'd looked out of the window at Anthony had she felt a pang of love or had she decided to take the best way out of a bad situation?

Sweeney shook the thoughts from his mind, leaning closer towards Anthony. He very gently kneeled over him, brushing the smallest strand of hair from his bloodied face. Another surge of anger shot through him as he saw his mauled young features, and he didn't fully know why.

The whole reason why Anthony was there in the first place was rather a mystery. Todd had come to the conclusion that he was trying to save Johanna… although of course he didn't stand a chance.

Sweeney's face seemed to clench together like a fist; he was still unbelieving of the fact that Anthony was actually dead. With a quick slip of the arms he'd managed to lift Anthony up against him, holding him with the same parental tenderness he'd held his daughter just hours before.

The weak sun penetrated through a thin layer of clouds causing the man to squint a little as he stepped outside. Very few people were out on the streets and if they were, Sweeney doubted they would have paid him any mind. The bullet had shot through Anthony's chest and blood flowed freely from the wound and onto Sweeney's shoulder.

_How many bloody shirts have I had to throw on today?_

Todd gently hoisted the boy's body higher onto his shoulder, trying to jog his lifeless arm so it would rest against his chest. Eventually they reached a small clearing; Sweeney used to visit this place with Lucy and Johanna years ago. Golden sunlight was filtered through the trees, landing on a warmed patch of grass. Setting Anthony down gently, Todd began to dig.

Two hours passed. Sweeney used his hands to rake at large lumps of soft earth. The work was strenuous but nothing compared to his labor in prison. Once his hands were caked in mud and beaded with blood, Todd had made a satisfactory pit of a grave.

He took Anthony gently in his arms one more, stopping to stoop down and lay him in his newly dug grave. Todd felt the strangest urge to cry as he gazed down at the boy's peaceful face, his eyes delicately closed and his hands by his sides. It was an almost holy sight to see him rest, to see him at peace. He averted his eyes as he scooped handfuls of mud onto the corpse, the thought of blemishing something so pure almost painful.

Once the earth above him was smooth, Sweeney straightened up, brushing mud from his trousers. He looked down once more at Anthony Hope, or rather where he lay, and closed his eyes. 'Thank you son,' he whispered, before walking away.


	13. Insanity

The minute Sweeney came to the door he knew something was wrong. Mrs. Lovett was slumped against the wall, her shoulders jerking with sobs and her hand blanketing her face. The minute she saw him she shot towards him. 'Mr. T!' She wailed, her face crimson and shiny with tears. 'Where 'ave you been?' she gripped him by the shoulders, her black eyes like hard, watery stones.

'What is it?' Todd asked, his heart thumping in his ears.

'It's Johanna,' Mrs. Lovett said, her words barely audible. More tears were spurted from her eyes, running down her cheeks.

'What… What about her?'

There was a pause.

'Something's wrong with her!'

'_What's _wrong with her!?' Todd's temper rose, as did his panic.

'I don't _know!' _Lovett shrieked. She broke out into fresh tears, tearing her eyes away from Todd and stumbling away. Sweeney felt rage and fear bubbling inside of him. If he didn't know what had happened right now he'd go mad. She gripped the corner of a table unsteadily, taking deep breaths. 'She just… she's gone _wrong,'_

_'What the fuck do you mean!?' _Mrs. Lovett whipped around, frightened, to see Todd advancing towards her. His face was livid and his eyes were narrowed, like he couldn't keep a lid on his rage any longer. A sickly melt of emotions he had felt over the last couple hours rose in him like bile, spewing from his mouth in violent words. '_Fucking tell me woman! Fucking tell me if my world's gonna end! Fucking tell me if I'll never get her back, fucking tell me if all this has been for nothing!' _he threw his arms up in despair, his face close to the baker's. She took a step backwards, meeting his eyes.

'She's not co-operating,' Lovett said, her hands fluttering to her chest in a concerned manner. 'The Doctor's doing everything he can but… she won't let him touch her. She's talkin' rubbish Mr. T, gibberish, an' she keeps chantin' "Anthony's dead, Anthony's dead!" She was cryin… askin' for you she was.'

Todd bit his lip, trying to take in was she was saying. Mrs. Lovett simply kept looking him in the eyes.

'Mr. T,' she began. 'I think your Johanna's gone mad.'

* * *

The first strange thing Todd noticed about his daughter was the way she shrank away when he approached her. Her eyes widened and she stuffed herself into the corner of the bed, propelling her body backwards to rest against the wall. Sweeney frowned, still not quite believing Mrs. Lovett's accusation, and sat on the edge of Johanna's bed.

She gave a wince as his weight jogged the mattress, a hand flying up to her face. 'Johanna?' Todd said softly.

'Not yet,' Johanna replied, continuing to shake her head. She took hold of the nearest pillow, embracing it. 'I'm not ready yet… you've not given me the d-drink firstly…' She bowed her head, biting her mauled lip. 'I still h-hurt from the last man,' she said quietly, pulling the pillow close to her stomach. Todd swore violently, causing Mrs. Lovett to jump. He jerked his head away from Johanna before slowly turning it back again.

'Johanna, it's me,' he said, trying to meet her eyes. Johanna's eyes flickered, and a sheet of dim fog seemed to be lifted from them. Suddenly her face broke out into a smile.

'Father?' she said hopefully.

'Yes.'

Her face softened and her whole body relaxed as she gently pushed herself further towards her father.

'Father,' she repeated, leaning against him. She groaned a little in pain and Sweeney felt anger shoot through him; but his arms held her steadily and gently. 'Where were you?'

'I was out.'

'But I needed you!'

'I'm sorry.'

Johanna thought for a second resting her head against him with a softened thud.

'That's alright,' She sighed, uncoiling her hands and wrapping them around him. 'I suppose we all make mistakes.' Sweeney scowled at the doctor.

'What's wrong with her?' he hissed, cupping a hand at the back of her soft golden head.

'She may have relapsed.'

'Relapsed? What do you mean?'

'She may have relapsed into insanity. At the asylum she will have probably had a phase of insanity. Now I think having suffered a great trauma… Anthony's death… her erm, attack… It's more than possible that she's relapsed again. As a coping mechanism, almost.'

Sweeney froze.

_And realizing her father is a murderer…_

'I'm sorry Johanna,' he said softly. 'I'm so, so sorry.'

'It's alright father,' she said, her voice back to normal. 'I forgive you.'

'She of course may be back to normal in a couple of days… or she may have phases of normality for a month or so… but for a while she'll be mentally unstable.'

Johanna closed her soft little eyelids, sucking in her breath.

'Father,' she whispered. 'Anthony's dead, isn't he?'

'I'm sorry darling, but yes, he is.'

'Anthony's dead.' She repeated, letting her voice trail off. 'Anthony's dead…'

She rested quietly in Sweeney's arms for what felt like hours, tears leaking silently from her eyes.


End file.
